Time, Time - That Is Our Greatest

Music And Love Are The Wings Of The Soul.

In My Opinion, The Trombone Is The True Head Of The Family Of Wind Instruments, Which I Have Named The 'epic' One. It Possesses Nobility And Grandeur To The Highest Degree; It Has All The Serious And Powerful Tones Of Sublime Musical Poetry, From Religious, Calm And Imposing Accents To Savage, Orgiastic Outburst. Directed By The Will Of The Master, The Trombones Can Chant Like A Choir Of Priests, Threaten, Utter Gloomy Sighs, A Mournful Lament, Or A Bright Hymn Of Glory; They Can Break Forth Into Awe-inspiring Cries And Awaken The Dead Or Doom The Living With Their Fearful Voices.

Time Is A Great Teacher, But Unfortunately It Kills All Its Pupils.

A Feeble Mind, Conscious Of Its Own Feebleness, Grows Feeble Under That Very Consciousness. As Soon As The Power Of Fear Becomes Known To It, There Follows The Fear Of Fear, And, On The First Perturbation, Reason Abandons It.

Love Cannot Express The Idea Of Music, While Music May Give An Idea Of Love