Music, In Even The Most Terrible Situations,

Nevertheless The Passions, Whether Violent Or Not, Should Never Be So Expressed As To Reach The Point Of Disgust.

The Music Is Not In The Notes, But In The Silence Between.

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.

As Death, When We Come To Consider It Closely, Is The True Goal Of Our Existence . . .

My Fatherland Has Always The First Claim On Me.