If music be the food of love, play on. Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent. Music is the poetry of the air. I have my own particular sorrows, loves, delights; and you have yours. But sorrow, gladness, yearning, hope, love, belong to all of us, in all times and in all places. Music is the only means whereby we feel these emotions in their universality. My idea is that there is music in the air, music all around us; the world is full of it, and you simply take as much as you require. Music, it has been my playmate, my lover, and my crying towel. Most people use music as a couch; they want to be pillowed on it, relaxed and consoled for the stress of daily living. Music, once admitted to the soul, becomes a sort of spirit, and never dies. Music is simply the medicine of the mind.
