I did not let myself be intimidated. “I have so often listened to your playing, there in the church,” I said.
“But I don’t want to bother you. I thought perhaps I should discover something in you, something special, I don’t know exactly what.
But please don’t mind me. I can listen to you in the church.”
“Why, I always lock the door!” “Just lately you forgot, and I sat inside.
Otherwise I stand outside or sit on the curb- stone.”
“Is that so? Another time you can come inside, it’s warmer.
You’ve simply got to knock on the door. But loudly, and not while I’m playing. Now—what did you want to say?
But you’re quite young, apparently a schoolboy or student. Are you a musician?”
“No. I like music, but only the kind you play, absolute music, where one feels that someone is trying to fathom heaven and hell.
I like music so much, I think, because it is not concerned with morals.
Everything else is a question of morals, and I am looking for something different.
Whatever has been concerned with morals has caused me only suffering.
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