A Symphony Is No Joke.

We Cling Nervously To The Melody, But We Don't Handle It Freely, We Don't Really Make Anything New Out Of It, We Merely Overload It.

It Is Not Hard To Compose But It Is Wonderfully Hard To Let The Superfluous Notes Fall Under The Table. . . So Many Melodies Fly About, One Must Be Careful Not To Tread On Them.

Those Who Enjoy Their Own Emotionally Bad Health And Who Habitually Fill Their Own Minds With The Rank Poisons Of Suspicion, Jealousy And Hatred, As A Rule Take Umbrage At Those Who Refuse To Do Likewise, And They Find A Perverted Relief In Trying To Denigrate Them.

How Lucky Is The Man Who, Like Mozart And Others, Goes To The Tavern Of An Evening And Writes Some Fresh Music. For He Lives While He Is Creating.

If We Cannot Write With The Beauty Of Mozart, Let Us At Least Try To Write With His Purity.