Music (n.) is born perfect when limit is forged into high and low, fast and slow.
Music (n.) matters most in education because rhythm and harmony sink deeper into the soul than anything else and grip it hardest, bringing it grace.
Music (n.) was invented, lyre-song and dithyramb alike, for the sake of pleasure — though Meles managed to fail even at that, and only pained his audience.
Music (n.) is not known by knowing high and low pitch, but by knowing how many intervals there are, their character, their boundaries and the scales they form.
Music (n.) threatens the whole system when it innovates: the modes of music are never changed without change in the most important laws of the city.
Music (n.) poured through the ear as through a funnel first tempers the spirit like iron, then, if continued, melts it away until the sinews of the soul are cut out.
Music (n.) and poetry educate by habit, not knowledge: harmonies give a certain harmoniousness, rhythms a certain rhythmical quality — but nothing that draws the soul toward being.
Music (n.) finds its harmonies not by measurement but by trial and error, hunting for the measure on vibrating strings — so it is full of imprecision and little reliability.