Sound unbound by nature becomes bounded by art.

We forget old stories, but those stories remain the same.

If what we think of ourselves were true, the planet would overflow with geniuses.

Sound unbound by nature becomes bounded by art.

Statesmen are grocers, ambitious clowns.

There is a moonlight note in the Moonlight Sonata; there is a thunder note in an angry sky.

A breeze, a forgotten summer, a smile, all can fit into a storefront window.