You Believe Happiness To Be Derived From

The Guitar Is A Wonderful Instrument Which Is Understood By Few.

I Am Composing Like A God, As If It Simply Had To Be Done As It Has Been Done.

There Are Two Contrary Impulses Which Govern This Man's Brain-the One Sane, And The Other Eccentric. They Alternate At Regular Intervals.

No One Really Understands The Grief Or Joy Of Another. We Always Imagine That We Are Approaching Some Other, But Our Lines Of Travel Are Actually Parallel.

When All Hopes Of Recognition Or Honor Have Faded Into Distant Memory, When Purity Of Heart Meets Sorrow Of Mind, When All The World Seems To Walk In Blindness And Yet A Man Works Without Wearying For That Which He Loves...only In This Moment Is Passion Truly Understood