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Propel, propel, propel your craft softly down liquid solution. Ecstatically, ecstatically, ecstatically, ecstatically, Existence is simply illusion.
Propel, propel, propel your craft softly down liquid solution. Ecstatically, ecstatically, ecstatically, ecstatically, Existence is simply illusion.
Music is the only sensual pleasure without vice.
Music is the only sensual pleasure without vice.
The musician who always plays on the same string is laughed at.
The musician who always plays on the same string is laughed at.
The whole problem can be stated quite simply by asking, 'Is there a meaning to music?' My answer would be, read more
The whole problem can be stated quite simply by asking, 'Is there a meaning to music?' My answer would be, 'Yes.' And 'Can you state in so many words what the meaning is?" My answer to that would be, 'No.'
When words leave off, music begins.
When words leave off, music begins.
Rugged the breast that music cannot tame.
Rugged the breast that music cannot tame.
Music is the only language in which you cannot say a mean or sarcastic thing.
Music is the only language in which you cannot say a mean or sarcastic thing.
The rustle of the leaves in summer's hush
When wandering breezes touch them, and the sigh
That read more
The rustle of the leaves in summer's hush
When wandering breezes touch them, and the sigh
That filters through the forest, or the gush
That swells and sinks amid the branches high,--
'Tis all the music of the wind, and we
Let fancy float on the aeolian breath.
