Music is everything and nothing. It is useless and no limit can be set on its use. Music takes me to places of illimitable sensual and insensate joy, accessing points of ecstasy that no angelic lover could ever locate, or plunging me into gibbering weeping hells of pain that no torturer could devise. Music makes me write this sort of maundering adolescent nonsense without embarrassment. Music is in fact the dog's bollocks. Nothing else comes close.

Music. A meaningless acceleration in the rhythm of celestial experience.

Music is the space between the notes.

The final aim and reason of all music is nothing other than the glorification of God and the refreshment of the spirit.

Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy. Music is the electrical soil in which the spirit lives, thinks and invents.

...A strange art – music – the most poetic and precise of all the arts, vague as a dream and precise as algebra.

All sounds have been as music to my listening

Music has no limits of a life-span.

Everything is music for the born musician.

All music should have no other end and aim than the glory of God and the soul's refreshment; where this is not remembered there is no real music but only a devilish hubbub.

Music is the melody whose text is the world.

Music expresses feeling and thought, without language; it was below and before speech, and it is above and beyond all words.

Music is ... A higher revelation than all Wisdom & Philosophy

Yet how strange a thing is the beauty of music! The brief beauty that the player brings into being transforms a given period of time into pure continuance; it is certain never to be repeated; like the existence of dayflies and other such short-lived creatures, beauty is a perfect abstraction and creation of life itself. Nothing is so similar to life as music.