Play Always As If In The Presence

People Compose For Many Reasons, To Become Immortal; Because The Piano Happens To Be Open; Because They Want To Become A Millionaire; Because Of The Praise Of Friends; Because They Have Looked Into A Pair Of Beautiful Eyes; Or For No Reason Whatsoever.

Thus It Is Ever In Life. The Aims We Once Pursued No Longer Satisfy Us; We Aim, We Strive, We Aspire, Until Sight Fails, And Mind And Body Find Rest In The Grave.

It Was An Unforgettable Picture To See Chopin Sitting At The Piano Like A Clairvoyant, Lost In His Dreams; To See How His Vision Communicated Itself Through His Playing, And How, At The End Of Each Piece, He Had The Sad Habit Of Running One Finger Over The Length Of The Plaintive Keyboard, As Though To Tear Himself Forcibly Away From His Dream.

Nothing Right Can Be Accomplished In Art Without Enthusiasm.

"we Liked It" Or "i Didn't Like It" People Say. As If It Were Nothing Higher Than To Please The People!