Everything that happens is at least one dimension smaller than you've imagined it to be.

I had given up magic, because it had reached a state of perfection. I felt that I was able to transform men into animals. I did not make use of this capability, because I believed I could not justify an intervention of this kind in the life of another person.

Everything that happens is at least one dimension smaller than you've imagined it to be.

When I was five years old, my parents gave me a magic chest. I learned to cast spells, although of a childish kind, before I had learned to read and write.

The riddle of Mozart is precisely that "the man" refuses to be a key for solving it. In death, as in life, he conceals himself behind his work.

How can such a disproportionately large number of people have a definite, and unusually positive relationship to Mozart?

In the view of the fact that nature is dying, political developments are of secondary importance.