His love of reading was a godsend to him when the waters were more than usually troubled and his brain was in a whirl.
In the actual work of composition he was elaborately meticulous--not often to the extent of changing an original plan, but in minor details; he never ceased working on a score until the music was out of his hands, or entirely put aside.

Sometimes he tried over a few measures on the piano as many as fifty times, changing the value or significance of a note; as a result, his piano writing is almost always "pianistic." In one respect he was sometimes careless: in the noting of the expression marks.

By the time he arrived at that duty he was usually tired out.

For this reason, much in his printed music is marked differently from the way he actually played it in concert.

He never, in performance, changed a note, save in a few of the earlier pieces; but in details of expression he often departed widely from the printed directions.
He was always profoundly absorbed when at work, though not to the extent of being able to compose amid noise or disturbance.