I want to seize fate by the throat.
Music is like a dream. One that I cannot hear.
The day-to-day exhausted me!
I will hear in heaven!
Applaud, my friends, the comedy is over.
The world is a king, and like a king, desires flattery in return for favor; but true art is selfish and perverse it will not submit to the mold of flattery.
Art! Who comprehends her? With whom can one consult concerning this great goddess?
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.