As it enters the ear, does it come in like broken glass or does it come in like honey?
Words are the light and sound of our existence, the heat lightning by which the night is illuminated.
Beethoven's Fifth Symphony is the most sublime noise that has ever penetrated into the ear of man.
Music embodies feeling without forcing it to contend and combine with thought, as it is forced in most arts and especially in the art of words.
I just enjoy the sound as I hear it in everything around me. The high and low frequencies of sound bewitch me. Whether I am in a shop, in the bathroom or listening to noise that my fans make... everything is music to my ears and drives me. I just put all these things in rhythm when I'm playing.
Music brings a warm glow to my vision, thawing mind and muscle from their endless wintering.
It's wonderful when music is intellectually stimulating. But ultimately it has to be a visceral experience.
Music. A meaningless acceleration in the rhythm of celestial experience.
It's hard to explain music when it goes in your gut and makes left and right and turns and moves you and resonates with you.
The sound of wind had become, for me, silence. When it went away, I was left with the squeak of the blood in my head and the aural glitter of all those little eardrum hairs quivering like a drunk in withdrawal.
I like things that catch your ears.
I like the experience being in the audience and being overwhelmed by sound, like thick, oppressive loud sound and distortion.
People hate to describe their music. What we have come to call it is "beat up your mom" music. As far as describing what it sounds like, I guess you'd have to listen.
Music falls on the silence like a sense / A passion that we feel, not understand.
Music, the word we use in our everyday language, is nothing less than the picture of our Beloved. It is because music is the picture of our Beloved that we love music.
When I hear what we call music, it seems to me that someone is talking. And talking about his feelings, or about his ideas of relationships. But when I hear traffic, the sound of traffic - here on Sixth Avenue, for instance - I don’t have the feeling that anyone is talking. I have the feeling that sound is acting. And I love the activity of sound... I don’t need sound to talk to me.
If singing was a color, it would've been the color of that chocolate.
Music at times is more like perfume than mathematics.
Music is not a subject to be discussed. It has to be experienced.
I think that music, beats, melody, sound are a natural part of our DNA, our vibe. It’s just a part of the cycle of our lives, we’re born, we have eyes, we have music.
