No One Feels Another's Grief.

My Compositions Spring From My Sorrows. Those That Give The World The Greatest Delight Were Born Of My Deepest Griefs.

A Man Endures Misfortune Without Complaint.

Why Should The Composer Be More Guilty Than The Poet Who Warms To Fantasy By A Strange Flame, Making An Idea That Inspires Him The Subject Of His Own Very Different Treatment?

I Am In The World Only For The Purpose Of Composing.

The Manager Is To Be Blamed Who Distributes Parts To His Players Which They Are Unable To Act.