J.S. Brahms is my spirit pathfinder. He is the perfect balance of boozing and womanizing without going over-board in terms of health, like Robert Schumann, but just enough that unrequited love haunted him all the days of his adult life. I guess it is him or Ernest Hemingway, but one marriage seems enough torture to learn the lesson.

Johannes Brahms – Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 77 – III. Allegro giocoso

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