Life and work of the composer Foltýn

"That wouldn't do, Mr. Foltýn," I said. "It would be absolutely impossible to do it that way. You can throw it away and start again." He was completely overwhelmed and swallowed hard. "You think it's that bad?" "Pretty bad," I said. "You've got good stuff in there, but together it's bad." He listened, silently reaching into the keys. "I hope you're right," he said with an effort. "There's so much in me... I don't know how to control it and smooth it out..." Suddenly he got up and went to the window. I could see on his back that he was crying. "Look here, Mr. Foltyn," I said, "that would be impossible. You can't cry. Art is not a toy to be cried for. One must not think of oneself." (according to Karel Čapek)