Love, Love, Love, That Is The Soul

Music Is My Life And My Life Is Music. Anyone Who Does Not Understand This Is Not Worthy Of God.

The Taste Of Death Is Upon My Lips. I Feel Something That Is Not Of This Earth.

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!

For I Assure You, Without Travel, At Least For People From The Arts And Sciences, One Is A Miserable Creature!... A Man Of Mediocre Talents Always Remains Mediocre, May He Travel Or Not - But A Man Of Superior Talents, Which I Cannot Deny Myself To Have Without Being Blasphemous, Becomes - Bad, If He Always Stays In The Same Place.

To Talk Well And Eloquently Is A Very Great Art, But That An Equally Great One Is To Know The Right Moment To Stop.