I Can Do Nothing But Think Of

Figured Bass (harmony) And Religion Are Self-contained Things, One Should Not Argue These.

My Misfortune Is Doubly Painful To Me Because It Will Result In My Being Misunderstood. For Me There Can Be No Recreation In The Company Of Others, No Intelligent Conversation, No Exchange Of Information With Peers; Only The Most Pressing Needs Can Make Me Venture Into Society. I Am Obliged To Live Like An Outcast.

In Praise Of Thy Goodness I Must Confess That Thou Didst Try With All Thy Means To Draw Me To Thee. Sometimes It Pleased Thee To Let Me Feel The Heavy Hand Of Thy Displeasure And To Humiliate My Proud Heart By Manifold Castigations. Sickness And Misfortune Didst Thou Send Upon Me To Turn My Thoughts To My Errantries.-one Thing, Only, O Father, Do I Ask: Cease Not To Labor For My Betterment. In Whatsoever Manner It Be, Let Me Turn To Thee And Become Fruitful In Good Works.

Tones Sound, And Roar And Storm About Me Until I Have Set Them Down In Notes.

The World Is A King, And Like A King, Desires Flattery In Return For Favor; But True Art Is Selfish And Perverse — It Will Not Submit To The Mold Of Flattery.