Quotes About Music

He thought what a fine thing it was that people made music all over the world, even in the strangest settings – probably even on polar expeditions.

He took in the squeaky music, the vulgar and pining melodies, because passion immobilizes good taste and seriously considers what soberly would be thought of as funny and to be resented.

Music awakens time, awakens us to our finest enjoyment of time.

Aber für ihn war Musik - Musik, wenn es eben nur welche war, und gegen das Wort von Goethe: 'Die Kunst beschäftigt sich mit dem Schweren und Guten' fand er einzuwenden, daß das Leichte auch schwer ist, wenn es gut ist, was es ebensowohl sein kann wie das Schwere. Davon ist etwas bei mir hängengeblieben, ich habe es von ihm. Allerdings habe ich ihn immer dahin verstanden, daß man sehr sattelfest sein muß im Schweren und Guten, um es so mit dem Leichten aufzunehmen.

Ä°blis: Müzik her ne kadar Hristiyanl?k taraf?ndan kullan?l?p geliÅŸtirilse de, ayn? zamanda reddedildi ve ÅŸeytani bir alan olarak d??land?-iÅŸte görüyorsun. Müzik fevkalade teolojik bir mesele; t?pk? günah gibi, benim gibi...

Narrative, however, has two kinds of time: first, its own real time, which like musical time defines its movement and presentation; and second, the time of its contents, which has a perspective quality that can vary widely, from a story in which the narrative's imaginary time is almost, or indeed totally coincident with its musical time, to one in which it stretches over light-years.

Hans Castorp barely attended. His mouth was open, for he could not have breathed through his nose without sniffing; he felt with dull discomfort that his heart was hammering out of time with the music; and with this combined sense of discord and disorder he was about to doze off

Nun, Neffe, was man da heut von dir hörte, darin hast du dich nicht zum ersten Male geübt.‹ ›Wie meinst du, Onkel Niko?‹ ›Wende nicht Unschuld vor! Du musizierst ja.‹ ›Was für ein Ausdruck!‹ ›Der hat schon für Dümmeres herhalten müssen [...].‹

Mais ce qu'il éprouvait, ce qu'il comprenait, et ce dont il jouissait par-dessus tout, [...] c'était l'idéalité triomphante de la musique, de l'art, du cÅ"ur humain, la haute et irréfutable sublimation qu'ils faisaient subir à la vulgaire laideur de la réalité.

It seems to me, however, that despite the logical, moral rigor music may appear to display, it belongs to a world of spirits, for whose absolute reliability in matters of human reason and dignity I would not exactly want to put my hand in the fire. That I am nevertheless devoted to it with all my heart is one of those contradictions which, whether a cause for joy or regret, are inseparable from human nature.

That music is ambiguity as a system. Take this note or this one. You can understand it like this or, again, like this, can perceive it as augmented from below or as diminished from above, and, being the sly fellow you are, you can make use of its duplicity just as you like.

Richard Wagner once declared that civilization disappears before music like mist before the sun. he never dreamed that one day, for its part, music would disappear before civilization, before democracy, like mist before the sun.

closing movement of the Cello Sonata in D, Op.

Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it: without the alternation of sound and silence there would be no rhythm.

The silence of the spheres is the music of a wedding feast. The more we persist in misunderstanding the phenomena of life, the more we analyze them out into strange finalities and complex purposes of our own, the more we involve ourselves in sadness. But it does not matter much because no despair of ours can alter the reality of things, or stain the joy of the cosmic dance which is always there.

Concerning solitude: most of the accidents of community life need not seriously concern me—differences of opinion, other people's ideas of the spiritual life, the kind of organ music that seems to please many. Why should I bother about all that? It is none of my business.

Music, oh, how faint, how weak, Language fades before thy spell! Why should Feeling ever speak, When thou canst breathe her soul so well?

Yet I've noticed the same thing when your band plays — the most amazing social coherence, as if you all shared the same brain. Sure, agreed 'Dope', but you can't call that organization. What do you call it? Jass.

I mean only that in our Times, 'tis not a rare Dispute, Maskelyne assures him. Reason, or any Vocation to it,-- the Pursuit of the Sciences,-- these are the hope of the Young, the new Music their Families cannot follow, occasionally not even listen to.

Nobody in this band was a musician when they joined up, but everybody was in some kind of trouble. Play con entusiasmo, as loudly as you can, and trust the good will and bad ear of the gringo hellraiser.

Listen to anything and take it apart again. Spectrum analysis, in my head. I can break down chords, and timbres, and words too into all the basic frequencies and harmonics, with all their different loudnesses, and listen to them, each pure tone, but all at once.

ay jalisco, no te rejas

The band played up and down valleys still in those days unknown except to a few real-estate visionaries, little crossroads places where one day houses'd sprawl and the rates of human affliction in all categories zoom.

I haven't sold my soul yet – well, maybe a couple bars of rhythm and blues here and there.