Easy Mind, Light Heart. A

I Try To Decorate My Imagination As Much As I Can.

Why Should The Composer Be More Guilty Than The Poet Who Warms To Fantasy By A Strange Flame, Making An Idea That Inspires Him The Subject Of His Own Very Different Treatment?

The Manager Is To Be Blamed Who Distributes Parts To His Players Which They Are Unable To Act.

It Sometimes Seems To Me As If I Do Not Belong To This World At All. I Deplore Music That Engenders In People Not Love But Madness: Which Rouses Them To Scornful Laughter Instead Of Lifting Their Thoughts To God.

I Want You For Always...days, Years, Eternities.