Art divided by science like a ring of stars
"Dear Mother:
I have written to tell you my worrying secret. Now don't cry when you read it because it is neither yours nor my fault. I suppose I will have to tell it now, without any nonsense. To begin with I was not meant to be an athlete. I was meant to be a composer, and will be I'm sure.
I'll ask you one more thing -- Don't ask me to try to forget this unpleasant thing and go play football. Please. Sometimes I've been worrying about this so much that it makes me mad (not very)."
- Samuel Barber, at age 9
I have written to tell you my worrying secret. Now don't cry when you read it because it is neither yours nor my fault. I suppose I will have to tell it now, without any nonsense. To begin with I was not meant to be an athlete. I was meant to be a composer, and will be I'm sure.
I'll ask you one more thing -- Don't ask me to try to forget this unpleasant thing and go play football. Please. Sometimes I've been worrying about this so much that it makes me mad (not very)."
- Samuel Barber, at age 9