I Tell My Piano The Things I

Nothing Is More Odious Than Music Without Hidden Meaning.

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

You Already Know When I'm Writing, So Don't Be Surprised If It's Short And Dry, Because I'm Too Hungry To Write Anything Fat

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

Among The Numerous Pleasures Of Vienna The Hotel Evenings Are Famous. During Supper Strauss Or Lanner Play Waltzes...after Every Waltz They Get Huge Applause; And If They Play A Quodlibet, Or Jumble Of Opera, Song And Dance, The Hearers Are So Overjoyed That They Don't Know What To Do With Themselves. It Shows The Corrupt Taste Of The Viennese Public.