Friday, February 25:
R. works hard. “A musician, when he is composing, falls into a sort of insane, somnambulistic state. How different from literary work — words are the gods living within a convention, but tones are the daemons.”
In the afternoon the children to their piano lesson, I write to L. Bucher. In the morning a letter from the Munich “Schäfer” who, having gone to Vienna to see Die Meistersinger, now reports that the performance was postponed on account of the singers’ hoarseness.