There Ought To Be Only One Large

Everything Should Be At Once Surprising And Inevitable.

Only The Pure In Heart Can Make A Good Soup.

Beethoven Can Write Music, Thank God, But He Can Do Nothing Else On Earth.

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.

Only The Flint Of A Man's Mind Can Strike Fire In Music.