The Amount Of Money One Needs Is

I Change Many Things, Discard Others, And Try Again And Again Until I Am Satisfied; Then, In My Head, I Being To Elaborate The Work In Its Breadth, Its Narrowness, Its Height, Its Depth...i Hear And See The Image In Front Of Me From Every Angle As If It Had Been Cast And Only The Labour Of Writing It Down Remains.

I Alter Some Things, Eliminate And Try Again Until I Am Satisfied. Then Begins The Mental Working Out Of This Material In Its Breadth, Its Narrowness, Its Height And Depth.

You Ask Me Where I Get My Ideas. That I Cannot Tell You With Certainty. They Come Unsummoned, Directly, Indirectly - I Could Seize Them With My Hands - Out In The Open Air, In The Woods, While Walking, In The Silence Of The Nights, At Dawn, Excited By Moods Which Are Translated By The Poet Into Words, By Me Into Tones That Sound And Roar And Storm About Me Till I Have Set Them Down In Notes.

I Carry My Thoughts About With Me For A Long Time... Before Writing Them Down... Once I Have Grasped A Theme. I Shall Not Forget It Even Years Later. I Change Many Things, Discard Others, And Try Again And Again Until I Am Satisfied; Then, In My Head... [the Work] Rises, It Grows, I Hear And See The Image N Front Of Me From Every Angle... And Only The Labor Of Writing It Down Remains... I Turn My Ideas Into Tones That Resound, Roar, And Rage Until At Last They Stand Before Me In The Form Of Notes.

Artists Are Fiery; They Do Not Weep.