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Arthur Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Representation (1819) Vol. I, Ch. II.
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As a society built upon the very ideals of e****enicalism and catholicity, as the leading technological and industrial nation of our time, and as the principal nexus between European high art and the musics of other classes and cultures, America stands at the forefront of the music of tomorrow.
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As in an organ from one blast of windTo many a row of pipes the soundboard breathes.
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As some to Church repair,Not for the doctrine, but the music there.
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Attributed to King Canute, Song of the Monks of Ely, in Spens, History of the English People, Historia Eliensis (1066). Chambers' Encyclopedia of English Literature.
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Being in a band is really great when you're 20. When you're 30, it's kind of 'Spinal Tap,' and when you're 40, it's just pathetic.
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Benjamin F. Taylor, Songs of Yesterday, How the Brook Went to Mill, Stanza 3.
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Better to listen to a wise man’s rebuke than to listen to the song of fools.
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Bhikkhus, you should train thus: 'We will guard the doors of our sense faculties. On hearing a sound with the ear, we will not grasp at its signs and features. Since, if we left the ear faculty unguarded, evil unwholesome states of covetousness and grief might invade us, we will practice the way of its restraint, we will guard the ear faculty, we will undertake the restraint of the ear faculty.'
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Books! ‘tis a dull and endless strife:Come, hear the woodland Linnet,How sweet his music! on my life,There’s more of wisdom in it.And hark! how blithe the Throstle sings!He, too, is no mean preacher:Come forth into the light of things,Let Nature be your teacher.
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Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark.
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Bruce Horner (1999). "Discourse". Key Terms in Popular Music and Culture. ISBN 0631212639.
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Bruce Wilshire, Fashionable Nihilism (2002), p. 34
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But Bellenden we needs must praise,Who as down the stairs she jumpsSings o'er the hill and far away,Despising doleful dumps.
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But music moves us, and we know not why;We feel the tears, but cannot trace their source.Is it the language of some other state,Born of its memory ? For what can wakeThe soul's strong instinct of another world,Like music?