"I am a Russian, Russian, Russian, to the marrow of my bones."

“Notes on Symphony No. 6”

“This evening I feel sad and am shedding tears because this morning while wandering in the woods I was unable to find a single violet. What an old sniveller I am...!”

“I played over the music of that scoundrel Brahms. What a giftless bastard! It annoys me that this self-inflated mediocrity is hailed as a genius.”

“What I need is to believe in myself again— for my faith has been greatly undermined; it seems to me my role is over.”

“Piotr Tchaikovsky at the Classical Music Pages.”

“Fate... hangs over our heads like the sword of Damocles and inexorably distills a slow and deadly venom. One must bend to it and abandon oneself to boundless despair...”