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It is the only sensual pleasure without vice.
The still, sad music of humanity.
Is it not strange that sheep’s guts should hale souls out of men’s bodies?
Hearing in the distance Two mandolins like creatures in the dark creating the agony of ecstasy.
Difficult do you call it, sir? I wish it were impossible.
When music fails to agree to the ear, to soothe the ear and the heart and the sense, then it has missed its point.
Classical music is the kind that we keep hoping will turn into a tune.
Music is the arithmetic of sounds as optics is the geometry of light.
Good music resembles something. It resembles the composer.
The good composer is slowly discovered, the bad composer is slowly found out.
I know only two tunes; one of them is “Yankee Doodle” and the other isn’t.
Canned music is like audible wall paper .
I do not see any good reason why the devil should have all the good tunes.
Hell is full of musical amateurs; music is the brandy of the damned.
The English may not like music but they absolutely love the noise it makes.
There is something suspicious about music, gentleman. I insist that she is, by her nature, equivocal. I shall not be going too far in saying at once that she is politically suspect.
Music is the mediator between the spiritual and the sensual life. Although the spirit be not master of that which it creates through music, yet it is blessed in this creation, which. Like every creation of art, is mightier than the artist.
Music is the harmonious voice of creation; an echo of the invisible world; one note of the divine concord which the entire universe is destined one day to sound.
There is something marvelous in music. I might almost say it is, in itself, a marvel. Its position is somewhere between the region of thought and that of phenomena; a glimmering medium between mind and matter, related to both and yet differing from either; Spiritual, and yet requiring rhythm; material, and yet independent of space.
Music resembles poetry; in each are numerous graces which no methods teach, and which a master hand alone can reach.
Explain it as we may, a martial strain will urge a man into the front rank of battle sooner than an argument, and a fine anthem excite his devotion more certainly than a logical discourse.
All musical people seem to be happy; it is to them the engrossing pursuit; almost the only innocent and unpunished passion.
Where painting is weakest, namely, in the expression of the highest moral and spiritual ideas, there music is sublimely strong.
Music can noble hints impart, engender fury, kindle love, with unsuspected eloquence can move and manage all the man with secret art.
Music, in the best sense, does not require novelty; nay, the older it is, and the more we are accustomed to it, the greater its effect.
The man that hath not music in himself, and is not moved with concord of sweat sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; let no man trust him.
The still, sad music of humanity.
William Wordsworth (1770-1850) English Poet.
Is it not strange that sheep’s guts should hale souls out of men’s bodies?
Hearing in the distance Two mandolins like creatures in the dark creating the agony of ecstasy.
Difficult do you call it, sir? I wish it were impossible.
When music fails to agree to the ear, to soothe the ear and the heart and the sense, then it has missed its point.
Classical music is the kind that we keep hoping will turn into a tune.
Music is the arithmetic of sounds as optics is the geometry of light.
Claude Debussy (1862-1918) French composer.
Good music resembles something. It resembles the composer.
Jean Cocteau (1889-1963) French writer, film director.
The good composer is slowly discovered, the bad composer is slowly found out.
Sir Ernest Newman (1868-1959) British musicologist.
I know only two tunes; one of them is “Yankee Doodle” and the other isn’t.
Ulysses S.Grant (1822-1885) American president.
Canned music is like audible wall paper .
Alistair Cooke (b.1908) British journalist, broadcaster.
I do not see any good reason why the devil should have all the good tunes.
Hell is full of musical amateurs; music is the brandy of the damned.
The English may not like music but they absolutely love the noise it makes.
There is something suspicious about music, gentleman. I insist that she is, by her nature, equivocal. I shall not be going too far in saying at once that she is politically suspect.
Music is the mediator between the spiritual and the sensual life. Although the spirit be not master of that which it creates through music, yet it is blessed in this creation, which. Like every creation of art, is mightier than the artist.
Beethoven.
Music is the harmonious voice of creation; an echo of the invisible world; one note of the divine concord which the entire universe is destined one day to sound.
Mazzini.
There is something marvelous in music. I might almost say it is, in itself, a marvel. Its position is somewhere between the region of thought and that of phenomena; a glimmering medium between mind and matter, related to both and yet differing from either; Spiritual, and yet requiring rhythm; material, and yet independent of space.
H.Heine.
Music resembles poetry; in each are numerous graces which no methods teach, and which a master hand alone can reach.
Pope.
Explain it as we may, a martial strain will urge a man into the front rank of battle sooner than an argument, and a fine anthem excite his devotion more certainly than a logical discourse.
Tuckerman.
All musical people seem to be happy; it is to them the engrossing pursuit; almost the only innocent and unpunished passion.
Sydney Smith.
Where painting is weakest, namely, in the expression of the highest moral and spiritual ideas, there music is sublimely strong.
Mrs.Stowe.
Music can noble hints impart, engender fury, kindle love, with unsuspected eloquence can move and manage all the man with secret art.
Addison.
Music, in the best sense, does not require novelty; nay, the older it is, and the more we are accustomed to it, the greater its effect.
Goethe.
The man that hath not music in himself, and is not moved with concord of sweat sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; let no man trust him.
Shakespeare.
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