Music (n.) is a thing which, when we listen to it, we are not listening to the past or the future, but to an expanded present.
Music (n.) at its purest does not represent feeling — it is feeling, the way the world, seen rightly, points to no meaning beyond itself.
Music (n.) points to nothing beyond itself: ordinary language refers to life, but music is living.
Music (n.) played to make money, outdo a rival or improve the mind is not really played — your mind is not on the music; you don't swing.
Music (n.) is a pure luxury, a waste of time on patterns of sound — yet a society with no room for it would be surviving to no purpose.
Music (n.) delights by its flow; hold a note or chord past its time and the rhythm is destroyed — and life is the same.
Music (n.) is not meant to improve as it goes along, nor is its object the finale; its point is found in every moment of playing and hearing it.