20 Best Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart Quotes

Wolfgang: [trying on wigs] They're all so beautiful. Why don't have three heads?
[laughs]

[the Emperor offers the sheet music of Salieri's welcome march to Mozart]
Wolfgang: Keep it Majesty, if you want. It's already here in my head.
Emperor: What? On one hearing only?
Wolfgang: I think so, Sire, yes.
Emperor: Show us.

Wolfgang: [speaking backwards] Say I'm sick. Say I'm sick!
Constanze: Yes, you are. You are very sick.
Wolfgang: [chuckling] No-ho-ho! Say it backwards, shit-wit!

Wolfgang: "Confutatis maledictis" - when the wicked are confounded. "Flammis acribus dictis." How would you translate that?
Antonio: Consigned to flames of woe.
Wolfgang: Do you believe in it?
Antonio: What?
Wolfgang: A fire which never dies, burning you forever?
Antonio: Oh yes.

Constanze: Wolfie, I think you really are going mad. You work like a slave for that idiot actor who won't give you a penny. And here, this is not a ghost! This is a real man who puts down real money. Why on earth won't you finish it? Can you give me one reason I can understand?
Wolfgang: It's killing me.

[Mozart loses at musical chairs]
Emanuel: Herr Mozart, why don't you name your son's penalty?
Wolfgang: Yes, Papa. Name it. Name it, I'll do anything you say. Anything.
Leopold: I want you to come back to Salzburg with me, my son.
Wolfgang: Papa, the rule is you can only give a penalty that can be performed in the room.
Leopold: I'm tired of this game, I don't want to play anymore.
Wolfgang: But my penalty!
[jumping up and down like an angry child]
Wolfgang: I've got to have a penalty!

[addressing the complaints about the "improper" libretto for "Figaro"]
Wolfgang: Come on now, be honest! Which one of you wouldn't rather listen to his hairdresser than Hercules? Or Horatius, or Orpheus... people so lofty they sound as if they shit marble!

Wolfgang: [suddenly realizing] My music... they started without me!

Wolfgang: Why must I submit samples of my work to some stupid committee just to teach a thirteen-year-old girl?
Count: Because His Majesty wishes it.
Wolfgang: Is the emperor angry with me?
Count: Quite the contrary.
Wolfgang: Then why doesn't he simply appoint me to the post?
Count: Mozart, you are not the *only* composer in Vienna.
Wolfgang: No, but I'm the best!

Emperor: My dear young man, don't take it too hard. Your work is ingenious. It's quality work. And there are simply too many notes, that's all. Just cut a few and it will be perfect.
Wolfgang: Which few did you have in mind, Majesty?

Wolfgang: The whole thing is set in a harem, Majesty. In a seraglio.
Count: You mean in Turkey?
Wolfgang: Yes, exactly.
Count: Then why especially does it have to be in German?
Wolfgang: It doesn't, especially. It could be in Turkish if you really want.

Wolfgang: [of his great opera "Figaro"] Nine performances! Nine, that's all it's had! And withdrawn!
Antonio: I know, I know, it's outrageous. Still, if the public doesn't like one's work, one has to accept the fact gracefully.
Wolfgang: But what is it that they don't like?
Antonio: I can speak for the Emperor. You make too many demands on the royal ear. The poor man can't concentrate for more than an hour... you gave him four.
Wolfgang: What did you think of it yourself? Did you like it at all?
Antonio: I thought it was marvelous.
Wolfgang: Of course! It's the best opera yet written, I know it... why didn't they come?
Antonio: I think you overestimate our dear Viennese, my friend. You know you didn't even give them a good *bang* at the end of songs, to let them know when to clap?
Wolfgang: I know, I know... maybe you should give me some lessons in that.

Emanuel: Look, I asked you if we could start rehearsals next week and you said yes.
Wolfgang: Well, we can.
Emanuel: So let me see it. Where is it?
Wolfgang: Here. It's all right here in my noodle. The rest is just scribbling. Scribbling and bibbling, bibbling and scribbling.

Wolfgang: [to Emperor Joseph II] Sire, only opera can do this. In a play if more than one person speaks at the same time, it's just noise, no one can understand a word. But with opera, with music... with music you can have twenty individuals all talking at the same time, and it's not noise, it's a perfect harmony!

Wolfgang: I am fed to the teeth with elevated themes! Old dead legends! Why must we go on forever writing about gods and legends?
Baron: Because they do. They go on forever. Or at least what they represent. The eternal in us. Opera is here to ennoble us. You and me, just the same as His Majesty.

Wolfgang: [about the royal composer's position he did not get] Whom did they choose?
Antonio: Herr Zummer.
Wolfgang: Herr Zummer? But the man's a fool, he's a total mediocrity!
Antonio: No, no, he has yet to achieve mediocrity.

Antonio: Mozart, it was good of you to come!
Wolfgang: How could I not?
Antonio: How... Did my work please you?
Wolfgang: [hesitantly] I never knew that music like that was possible!
Antonio: [uncertainly] You flatter me.
Wolfgang: [insincerely] No, no! One hears such sounds, and what can one say but... Salieri!

Wolfgang: I actually threw the score on the fire, he made me so angry.
Antonio: You burned the score?
Wolfgang: No, no. My wife took it out in time.

Wolfgang: Forgive me, Majesty. I am a vulgar man! But I assure you, my music is not.
Emperor: You are passionate, Mozart, but you do not persuade...

Constanze: [to Mozart's father] May I offer you some tea, Herr Mozart?
Wolfgang: Tea? Who wants tea? Let's go out! This calls for a feast. You don't want tea, do you, Papa?
Constanze: Wolfie...
Wolfgang: I know, let's go dancing! Papa loves parties, don't you?
Constanze: Wolfie!
Wolfgang: What? How can you be so boring? Tea...