Franz Schubert Quotes

Happy is the man who finds a true friend, and far happier is he who finds that true friend in his wife.

Anyone who loves music can never be quite unhappy.

My compositions spring from my sorrows. Those that give the world the greatest delight were born of my deepest griefs.

When I wished to sing of love, it turned to sorrow. And when I wished to sing of sorrow, it was transformed for me into love.

You believe happiness to be derived from the place in which once you have been happy, but in truth it is centered in ourselves.

Every night when I go to bed, I hope that I may never wake again, and every morning renews my grief.

No one feels another's grief, no one understands another's joy. People imagine they can reach one another. In reality they only pass each other by.

I am composing like a god, as if it simply had to be done as it has been done.

Easy mind, light heart. A mind that is too easy hides a heart that is too heavy.

O Mozart, immortal Mozart, how many, how infinitely many inspiring suggestions of a finer, better life you have left in our souls!

There is no such thing as happy music.

The guitar is a wonderful instrument which is understood by few.

I am in the world only for the purpose of composing.

The manager is to be blamed who distributes parts to his players which they are unable to act.

There are two contrary impulses which govern this man's brain-the one sane, and the other eccentric. They alternate at regular intervals.

Love is in the air these days, so we thought we'd give a try to make your day a little brighter.

Why does God endow us with compassion?

The greatest misfortune of the wise man and the greatest unhappiness of the fool are based upon convention.

I want you for always...days, years, eternities.

A man endures misfortune without complaint.

If only your pure and clean mind could touch me, dear Haydn, nobody has a greater reverence for you than I have.

There are eight girls in the house in which I am living, and practically all of them are good looking. You can realize that I am kept busy.

I try to decorate my imagination as much as I can.

Above all things, I must not get angry. If I do get angry I knock all the teeth out of the mouth of the poor wretch who has angered me.

Who can do anything after Beethoven?

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.

The world resembles a stage on which every man is playing a part.

No one really understands the grief or joy of another.

Nobody understands another's sorrow, and nobody another's joy.

Why should the composer be more guilty than the poet who warms to fantasy by a strange flame, making an idea that inspires him the subject of his own very different treatment?

I never force myself to be devout except when I feel so inspired, and never compose hymns of prayers unless I feel within me real and true devotion.

No one feels another's grief.

Our castle is not imposing, but is well built, and surrounded by a very fine garden. I live in the bailiff's house.

Approval or blame will follow in the world to come.

What a picture of a better world you have given us, Mozart!