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.
I am a fool. That is well known.
What’s even worse than a flute? – Two flutes!
If people could see into my heart, I should almost feel ashamed – all there is cold, cold as ice.
Writing music is my one and only passion and joy.
A bachelor, in my opinion, is only half alive.
Handel understands effect better than any of us – when he chooses, he strikes like a thunderbolt.
It is a mistake to think that the price of my art has become easy to me.
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 should like to know for what reason idleness is so popular with many young people that it is impossible to dissuade them from it either by words or by chastisements.
Forgive me, Majesty. I am a vulgar man! But I assure you, my music is not.
Melody is the essence of music. I compare a good melodist to a fine racer, and counterpoints to hack post-horses.
Music is my life and my life is music.
Nevertheless the passions, whether violent or not, should never be so expressed as to reach the point of causing disgust; and music, even in situations of the greatest horror, should never be painful to the ear but should flatter and charm it, and thereby always remain music.
The most necessary, most difficult and principal thing in music, that is time.
Melody is the essence of music.
The taste of death is upon my lips. I feel something that is not of this earth.
Music, in even the most terrible situations, must never offend the ear but always remain a source of pleasure.
To my eyes and ears the organ will ever be the King of Instruments.
It is a great consolation for me to remember that the Lord, to whom I had drawn near in humble and child-like faith, has suffered and died for me, and that He will look on me in love and compassion.