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.
My compositions spring from my sorrows. Those that give the world the greatest delight were born of my deepest griefs.
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
Nobody understands another's sorrow, and nobody another's joy.
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