So We Keep Asking, Over

While We Are Indifferent To Our Good Qualities, We Keep On Deceiving Ourselves In Regard To Our Faults, Until We Come To Look On Them As Virtues.

Nothing Is More Futile Than Theorizing About Music. No Doubt There Are Laws, Mathematically Strict Laws, But These Laws Are Not Music; They Are Only Its Conditions? The Essence Of Music Is Revelation.

He Who Fears To Venture As Far As His Heart Urges And His Reason Permits, Is A Coward; He Who Ventures Further Than He Intended To Go, Is A Slave.

There, Where One Burns Books... One, In The End, Burns Men.

God Will Pardon Me. It Is His Trade.