"He was so extremely fond of me - I, of course, fairly doting upon him - that he would repeatedly enquire whether I truly loved him; and when in jest I would occasionally say 'No,' his little eyes would fill with tears, so sensitive and loving was his heart."
"He loved our parents, especially our father, so much that he composed a little tune which he would sing every night before going to bed - for which purpose purpose father would stand him on a chair. Father was invariably required to sing the second part, and when this little ritual, which was never overlooked, was finished, Wolfgang would kiss our father very sweetly and go to sleep peaceful and contented. And this went on, every night, except when he was ill and already in bed, until he was in his tenth year."
"Until he was almost ten years old, he had an insurmountable horror of the trumpet when it was sounded alone, without other instruments; merely holding a trumpet toward him terrified him as much as if it had been a loaded pistol. His father wished to overcome this childish alarm, and ordered me once, in spite of the boy's pathetic pleading, to blow towards him; but, oh God! How I wish that I had not been induced to do it. Wolfgang no sooner heard the blaring sound than he turned deathly pale, began to collapse, and would certainly have fallen into convulsions, had I not immediately let off."
But yeah let's focus on his skill set like everyone else around him did
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theartofmadeline
