When I am, as it were, completely myself, entirely alone, and of good cheer – say traveling in a carriage, or walking after a good meal, or during the night when I cannot sleep, it is on such occasions that my ideas flow best and most abundantly. Whence and how they come, I know not; nor can I force them. Those ideas that please me, I retain in memory and am accustomed, as I have been told, to hum them to myself. If I continue in this way, it soon occurs to me how I may turn this or that morsel to account so as to make a good dish of it, that is to say, agreeable to the rules of counterpoint, to the peculiarities of the various instruments.
All this fires my soul, and provided I am not disturbed, my subject enlarges itself, becomes methodized and denned, and the whole, though it be long, stands almost complete and finished in my mind, so that I can survey it, like a fine picture, a beautiful statue, at a glance. Nor do I hear in my imagination the parts successfully, but I hear them as it were, gleich alles zusammen, all at once. What a delight that is I cannot tell! All this inventing, this producing, takes place in a pleasing, lively dream. Still the actual hearing of the tout ensemble is after all the best.