I have never written the music that was in my heart to write; perhaps I never shall with this brain and these fingers, but I know that hereafter it will be written; when instead of these few inlets of the senses through which we now secure impressions from without, there shall be a flood of impressions from all sides; and instead of these few tones of our little octave, there shall be an infinite scale of harmonies - for I feel it - I am sure of it. This world of music, whose borders even now I have scarcely entered, is a reality, is immortal.

I am never happier than when I have something to compose, for that, after all, is my sole delight and passion

What's even worse than a flute? - Two flutes!

I too had to work hard, so as not to have to work hard any longer.

You know that I immerse myself in music, so to speak- that I think about it all day long- that I like experimenting- studying- reflecting.

As death, when we come to consider it closely, is the true goal of our existence . . .

The music is not in the notes, but in the silence between.