Here, Whatever Is Not Boring Is Not

Bach Is Like An Astronomer Who, With The Help Of Ciphers, Finds The Most Wonderful Stars.

The Last Thing Is Simplicity. After Having Gone Through All The Difficulties, Having Played An Endless Number Of Notes, It Is Simplicity That Matters, With All Its Charm. It Is The Final Seal On Art. Anyone Who Strives For This To Begin With Will Be Disappointed. You Cannot Begin At The End.

If I Were Still Stupider Than I Am, I Should Think Myself At The Apex Of My Career; Yet I Know How Much I Still Lack, To Reach Perfection; I See It The More Clearly Now That I Live Only Among First-rank Artists And Know What Each One Of Them Lacks.

I Am Gay On The Outside, Especially Among My Own Folk (i Count Poles My Own); But Inside Something Gnaws At Me; Some Presentiment, Anxiety, Dreams - Or Sleeplessness - Melancholy, Indifference - Desire For Life, And The Next Instant, Desire For Death; Some Kind Of Sweet Peace, Some Kind Of Numbness, Absent-mindedness.

The Earth Is Suffocating... Swear To Make Them Cut Me Open, So That I Won't Be Buried Alive.