We are the ghosts of the singing furies .
I'm afraid I wasn't much of a student, but my casual reading was enormous.
[At a musical concert:] . . . the music's pure algebra of enchantment.
The one you love leans forward, smiles, deceives you, Opens a door through which you see dark dreams.
I always hankered to be a composer - I was mad about music, though I never studied seriously, and can't read a note. But I learned to play the piano and became pretty skillful at improvisation, especially after a drop or two.
Music I heard with you was more than music, and bread I broke with you was more than bread. Now that I am without you, all is desolate; all that was once so beautiful is dead.