True Perfection In All Things Is No

I Have Never Written The Music That Was In My Heart To Write; Perhaps I Never Shall With This Brain And These Fingers, But I Know That Hereafter It Will Be Written; When Instead Of These Few Inlets Of The Senses Through Which We Now Secure Impressions From Without, There Shall Be A Flood Of Impressions From All Sides; And Instead Of These Few Tones Of Our Little Octave, There Shall Be An Infinite Scale Of Harmonies - For I Feel It - I Am Sure Of It. This World Of Music, Whose Borders Even Now I Have Scarcely Entered, Is A Reality, Is Immortal.

I Am Not Thoughtless But Am Prepared For Anything And As A Result Can Wait Patiently For Whatever The Future Holds In Store, And I'll Be Able To Endure It.

I Choose Such Notes That Love One Another.

My Dear Sister! I’m Amazed To Discover That You Can Compose So Delightfully. In A Word, Your Lied Is Beautiful. You Must Compose More Often.

To Every Good Friend I Send My Greet Feet; Addio Nitwit. Love True True True Until The Grave, If I Live That Long And Do Behave.