If Only Your Pure And Clean Mind

There Are Eight Girls In The House In Which I Am Living, And Practically All Of Them Are Good Looking. You Can Realize That I Am Kept Busy.

One Bites Into The Brass Mouthpiece Of His Wooden Cudgel, And The Other Blows His Cheeks Out On A French Horn. Do You Call That Art?

No One Understands Another's Grief, No One Understands Another's Joy... My Music Is The Product Of My Talent And My Misery. And That Which I Have Written In My Greatest Distress Is What The World Seems To Like Best.

The Guitar Is A Wonderful Instrument Which Is Understood By Few.

Anyone Who Loves Music Can Never Be Quite Unhappy.