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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...

— Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

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More quotes by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

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

After the last notes of Gotterdammerung I felt as though I had been let out of prison.

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.

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

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...!

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.