I am currently exploring his musical compositions.
Reading his biography today made me a little sad.
While the 19th century French Romantic composer was a significant figure in music history as well as a witty writer/musical critic in his time, his personal life seemed to be a series of disasters especially in the area of romantic love and marriage.
In old age, he finally wrote:
I am in my 61st year; past hopes, past illusions, past high thoughts and lofty conceptions. My son is almost always far away from me. I am alone. My contempt for the folly and baseness of mankind, my hatred of its atrocious cruelty, have never been so intense. And I say hourly to Death: 'When you will'. Why does he delay?
Speaking of which: Unrequited love and its longings for a love story that was not meant to be. Why does it have to be so cruel?
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