I must give you a piece of intelligence that you perhaps already know, namely that the ungodly arch-villain Voltaire has died miserably like a dog, just like a brute. That is his reward!

It is when I am, as it were, completely myself, entirely alone, and of good cheer.....that ideas flow best and most abundantly. Whence and how they come, I know not, nor can I force them.

When I feel well and in a good humour, or when I am taking a drive or walking after a good meal, or in the night when I cannot sleep, thoughts crowd into my mind as easily as my mind might wish.

Even when I can play Europe's most precious keyboard, to have to listen to people who don't understand, or do not want to understand, and who are incapable of grasping my intent, whatever I play, does surely forfeit my lust for playing at all.

Music must never offend the ear, but must please the listener, or, in other words, must never cease to be music.

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

I am not thoughtless but am prepared for anything and as a result can wait patiently for whatever the future holds in store, and I'll be able to endure it.