Behind me the branches of a wasted and sterile existence are cracking.

Even if people censure me, they should do so hat in hand.

I hope you will no longer accuse me of a lack of delicacy. as I now count on your understanding.

I also had a brother who was like me a musician and a composer. A man of great talent, far more gifted than I. He died very young... he killed himself in the prime of his life.

The impressions of the spriritual experiences gave my future life its form and content.

When I have reached a summit, I leave it with great reluctance, unless it is to reach for another, higher one.