My Manuscripts Sleep, While I Cannot, For

There Are Certain Times When I Feel More Inspired, Filled With A Strong Power That Forces Me To Listen To My Inner Voice, And When I Feel More Need Than Ever For A Pleyel Piano.

Liszt Commenting On The Music Of Frédéric Chopin: He Confided . . . Those Inexpressible Sorrows To Which The Pious Give Vent In Their Communication With Their Maker. What They Never Say Except Upon Their Knees, He Said In His Palpitating Compositions.

A Strange Adventure Befell Me While I Was Playing My Sonata In B Flat Minor Before Some English Friends. I Had Played The Allegro And The Scherzo More Or Less Correctly. I Was About To Attack The March When Suddenly I Saw Arising From The Body Of My Piano Those Cursed Creatures Which Had Appeared To Me One Lugubrious Night At The Chartreuse. I Had To Leave For One Instant To Pull Myself Together After Which I Continued Without Saying Anything.

One Needs Only To Study A Certain Positioning Of The Hand In Relation To The Keys To Obtain With Ease The Most Beautiful Sounds, To Know How To Play Long Notes And Short Notes And To Achieve Certain Unlimited Dexterity. A Well Formed Technique, It Seems To Me, Can Control And Vary A Beautiful Sound Quality.

Mozart Encompasses The Entire Domain Of Musical Creation, But I've Got Only The Keyboard In My Poor Head.