I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.

And stepping westward seemed to be A kind of heavenly destiny.

Yet was Rob Roy as wise as brave; Forgive me if the phrase be strong;- A Poet worthy of Rob Roy Must scorn a timid song.

Sweet Mercy! to the gates of Heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven; The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour, And memory of earth's bitt…

'When you hear music, after it's over, it's gone in the air. You can never capture it again.'

Great music is that which penetrates the ear with facility and leaves the memory with difficulty. Magical music never leaves the memory.

Tout silence n'est fait que de paroles qu'on n'a pas dites. C'est pour cela peut-etre que je devins un musicien. Il fallait quelqu'un pour exprimer ce silence,…