Melody Is A Form Of Remembrance. It

Music Is...a Form Of Remembering, A Return To The Seasons Of The Heart Long Gone.

Love, Which, In Concert With Abstinence, Established Faith, And Which, Along With Patience, Builds Up Chastity, Is Like The Columns That Sustain The Four Corners Of A House. For It Was That Same Love Which Planted A Glorious Garden Redolent With Precious Herbs And Noble Flowers-roses And Lilies-which Breathed Forth A Wondrous Fragrance, That Garden On Which The True Solomon Was Accustomed To Feast His Eyes.

I Know Of No Better Definition Of Love Than The One Given By Proust - Love Is Space And Time Measured By The Heart.

Melody Is A Form Of Remembrance. It Must Have A Quality Of Inevitability In Our Ears.

Waiting And Hoping Are The Whole Of Life, And As Soon As A Dream Is Realized It Is Destroyed.