I Am A Fool. That Is Well

Our Riches, Being In Our Brains, Die With Us... Unless Of Course Someone Chops Off Our Head, In Which Case, We Won't Need Them Anyway.

A Man Of Ordinary Talent Will Always Be Ordinary, Whether He Travels Or Not; But A Man Of Superior Talent (which I Cannot Deny Myself To Be Without Being Impious) Will Go To Pieces If He Remains Forever In The Same Place.

I Will Gladly Give Lessons As A Favor, Particularly When I See That My Student Has Talent, Inclination, And Anxiety To Learn; But To Be Obliged To Go To A House At A Certain Hour, Or To Have To Wait At Home For A Pupil, Is What I Cannot Do, No Matter How Much Money It May Bring Me In. . . I Am A Composer And Was Born To Be A Kapellmeister. I Neither Can Nor Ought To Bury The Talent For Composition With Which God In His Goodness Has So Richly Endowed Me. . .

She's Only Pretty In That She Has Two Small Black Eyes And A Good Figure.

I Pay No Attention Whatever To Anybody's Praise Or Blame. I Simply Follow My Own Feelings.