Music is an outburst of the soul.
Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.
Music is the divine way to tell beautiful, poetic things to the heart.
I think music in itself is healing. It's an explosive expression of humanity. It's something we are all touched by. No matter what culture we're from, everyone loves music.
Music is the harmonious voice of creation; an echo of the invisible world.
There is music in all things, if men had ears.
Music is everybody's possession. It's only publishers who think that people own it.
Music is the best means we have of digesting time.
Great music is that which penetrates the ear with facility and leaves the memory with difficulty. Magical music never leaves the memory.
Music is the wine which inspires one to new generative processes, and I am Bacchus who presses out this glorious wine for mankind and makes them spiritually drunken.
Music is nothing else but wild sounds civilised into time and tune.
Where painting is weakest, namely, in the expression of the highest moral and spiritual ideas, there music is sublimely strong.
Music is given to us with the sole purpose of establishing an order in things, including, and particularly, the coordination between man and time.
Modern music is as dangerous as narcotics.
Music is the brandy of the damned.
Music is in all growing things; And underneath the silky wings Of smallest insects there is stirred A pulse of air that must be heard; Earth's silence lives, and throbs, and sings.
In the germ, when the first trace of life begins to stir, music is the nurse of the soul; it murmurs in the ear, and the child sleeps; the tones are companions of his dreams- they are the world in which he lives
My music is best understood by children and animals.
Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing; To his music, plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
All my concerts had no sounds in them; they were completely silent. People had to make up their own music in their minds!
There is in souls a sympathy with sounds: And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.
Music expresses feeling and thought, without language; it was below and before speech, and it is above and beyond all words.
I think I should have no other mortal wants, if I could always have plenty of music. It seems to infuse strength into my limbs and ideas into my brain. Life seems to go on without effort, when I am filled with music.
Its language is a language which the soul alone understands, but which the soul can never translate.
Music is part of being human.
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