Play Mozart In Memory Of Me -

I Wish I Could Throw Off The Thoughts Which Poison My Happiness, But I Take A Kind Of Pleasure In Indulging Them.

My Manuscripts Sleep, While I Cannot, For I Am Covered With Poultices.

After A Rest In Edinburgh, Where, Passing A Music-shop, I Heard Some Blind Man Playing A Mazurka Of Mine.

All The Same It Is Being Said Everywhere That I Played Too Softly, Or Rather, Too Delicately For People Used To The Piano-pounding Of The Artists Here.

Bach Is Like An Astronomer Who, With The Help Of Ciphers, Finds The Most Wonderful Stars . . . Beethoven Embraced The Universe With The Power Of His Spirit . . . I Do Not Climb So High. A Long Time Ago I Decided That My Universe Will Be The Soul And Heart Of Man.