What A Picture Of A Better World

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?

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

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.

No One Feels Another's Grief, No One Understands Another's Joy. People Imagine They Can Reach One Another. In Reality They Only Pass Each Other By.

Who Can Do Anything After Beethoven?