The Tea Is Ice-cold, The

How Often Have I Actually Discovered In Myself That Enthusiasm Raises The Artist Above Himself, How In An Ordinary Mood One Would Not Have Been Able To Accomplish Many Of The Things For Which Enthusiasm Lends One Everything, Energy, Fire.

There Is Nothing Greater Than The Joy Of Composing Something Oneself And Then Listening To It.

Composing Gives Me Great Pleasure... There Is Nothing That Surpasses The Joy Of Creation, If Only Because Through It One Wins Hours Of Self-forgetfulness, When One Lives In A World Of Sound.

The Tea Is Ice-cold, The Room Grows Colder And Colder, But I Grow Warmer And Warmer.

Is An Artist Much More Than A Beggar?