I Was A God-fearing Child, Innocent And

My Indifference To Money And My Spendthrift Ways Are Disgraceful. You Have No Idea How Reckless I Am; How Often I Practically Throw Money Out Of The Window. I Am Always Making Good Resolutions, But The Next Minute I Forget And Give The Waiter Eightpence.

An Evil Fate Has Deprived Me Of The Full Use Of My Right Hand, So That I Am Not Able To Play My Compositions As I Feel Them. The Trouble With My Hand Is That Certain Fingers Have Become So Weak, Probably Through Writing And Playing Too Much At One Time, That I Can Hardly Use Them.

If, While At The Piano, You Attempt To Form Little Melodies, That Is Very Well; But If They Come Into Your Mind Of Themselves, When You Are Not Practising, You May Be Still More Pleased; For The Internal Organ Of Music Is Then Roused In You. The Fingers Must Do What The Head Desires; Not The Contrary.

My Symphonies Would Have Reached Opus 100 If I Had But Written Them Down... Sometimes I Am So Full Of Music, And So Overflowing With Melody, That I Find It Simply Impossible To Write Down Anything.

Endeavour To Play Easy Pieces Well And With Elegance; That Is Better Than To Play Difficult Pieces Badly.