Music (n.) is a universal language to the highest degree, that is, universalities which are without material or body and are pure form.
Music (n.) is an operation of self-erasure and effervescence allowing sense to emerge. He writes, 'every, truthful, every original music is a swansong,'.
Music (n.) should be cheerful and profound like an afternoon in october.
Music (n.) is that wherein the passions enjoy themselves.
Music (n.) is credited with the power of discharging the violent emotions, and etymology, 'melos' (in melody) is a tranquilizer, not because it is tranquil itself but because its aftereffects make one tranquil.
Music (n.) is far better than the idea at reaching men's ears and hearts, for any seedling of a doctrine, to become a tree, has to be believed for a long while as irrefutable, and only music is capable of seducing men to every error and every truth in such a way.
Music (n.) is capable of seducing men to every error and every truth, for who could refute a tone?
Music (n.) is a total excitement and a total discharge of the affects, but even so only the remnant of a much fuller world of expression of the affects, a mere residue of the Dionysian histrionicism.
Music (n.) of the German masters is right feeling made audible, the enemy of all convention — a return to nature that is also nature transformed in love.
Music (n.) in its true form perhaps resounded because mankind deserved it least but needed it most — the greater existing for the sake of the less.
Music (n.) is not the immediate language of feeling; its ancient marriage to poetry deposited so much symbolism in it that we only suppose it speaks from and to the inner world.
Music (n.) is in itself never profound — it does not speak of the 'will' or the 'thing in itself'; the intellect put that significance into sounds, as it put meaning into the lines of architecture.
Music (n.) is the late fruit of every culture — it arrives in its autumn, often like the language of a vanished age; all truly meaningful music is swan-song.
Music (n.) performed in the tragic-dramatic mode imitates the Christian great sinner — brooding, tormented, pleading — and applies it to all music: 'For Heaven's sake, however did sin get into music!'
Music (n.) thrives where people cannot or may not talk: under princes who want little thought, repressed societies, solitary nations — the voluble Greeks used it only as seasoning; the Pythagoreans invented the five-year silence, not dialectics.
Music (n.) is no luxury — without music, life would be a mistake.
Music (n.) is a kind of fertility — making music is another way of making children; chastity is merely the economy of an artist.
Music (n.) does not reveal the essence of the world, as Schopenhauer claimed — it only reveals our dear musicians, who don't even know it.