There ought to be but one large art warehouse in the world, to which the artist could carry his art-works, and from which he could carry away whatever he needed. As it is, one must be half a tradesman.
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"O, you men who think or say that I am malevolent, stubborn, or misanthropic, how greatly do you wrong me."
"My mind is so full of music that I could write all day and all night. But I cannot write it down fast enough."
"Art! Who comprehends her? With whom can one consult concerning this great goddess?"
"Do you think I give a damn about your and your pathetic violin?"
"The cello is a stupid instrument."
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