When I look at of the books in my library, the only thing I can remember in most cases is whether I have read them or not. Books in the second-largest category trigger one single anecdote or image and nothing else. One image which has been in my head for decades now comes from a book by Alberto Savinio (the brother of the painter Giorgio De Chirico), who was a fine writer and music critic, but of whom the only thing I recall is this passage he wrote about Gioacchino Rossini:
When, in Rossini’s symphonies, the allegro theme with the repeated little notes starts up, followed by one of his famous crescendos, I close my eyes and I see an ancient train with the steam engine in front, an ostrich-neck smoke stack with something like a pasta colander on top and the open-sided carriages behind, the curtains flapping and all full of fat Rossinis, paunchy and chuckling, who blow kisses to the crowd and shout out witticisms. The train starts giving off slow puffs, which then pick up pace, until they reach a steady, blistering speed, and the train races through the countryside, which is green with astonishment.
I often think about that when I hear Rossini’s music. Here are some of his famous crescendos. Try and see the train going by. Or get on and stand behind all the Rossinis as you go through the greenly astonished countryside.
Rossini retired from writing operas when he was 37. He wrote some other music, including some pieces which he called “Old Age Sins”, one of which is about peas (Ouf, les petis pois!).
He was famous for his witticisms. Just like the images from my books, I recall one in number. It’s about Wagner (look away now, Wagner fans):
“Mr. Wagner has some wonderful moments, but some awful quarters of an hour.”
(Note: the caricature of Rossini is by David Levine. You can see several other outstanding examples of his art here.)
Sideways Station 
ciao, inizio la giornata con i crescendo rossiniani, ottima idea. Mi riporta al passato quando un mio magnifico insegnante di inglese, cantante lui stesso ed appassionato di opera, cercava di spiegarci l’intonation inglese utilizzando il crescendo belliniano e credendo lui, povero illuso, che essendo noi di Catania, sapessimo a memoria le opere di Bellini. Resta il ricordo della contrazione progressiva della respirazione con la mano a controllarla e forse la speranza di parlare inglese decentemente, insomma uno che insegnava la strada difficile e quindi comunque meritevole di un ricordo, si chiamava James Burge , non so più nulla di lui, ma il tuo Rossini me lo ha fatto ricordare, grazie! Vanna