One Must Not Make Oneself Cheap Here

Neither Rejoice Nor Lament Prematurely; For Whatever May Happen, All Will Be Well If We Only Have Health; For Happiness Exists--merely In The Imagination.

I Love It When An Aria Fits A Singer As Perfectly As A Suit Of Well-tailored Clothes.

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.

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 Do Not Hear In My Imagination The Parts Successively, But I Hear Them Gleich Alles Zusammen - At The Same Time All Together.