Music contains a whole gamut of experience, from sensuous elements to ultimate intellectual harmonies.

Uselessness is a fatal accusation to bring against any act which is done for its presumed utility, but those which are done for their own sake are their own justification.

The vital straining towards an ideal, definite but latent, when it dominates a whole life, may express that ideal more fully than could the best chosen words.

Prayer is not a substitute for work; it is an effort to work further and be efficient beyond the range of one's powers.

In unphilosophical minds any rare or unexpected thing excites wonder, while in philosophical minds the familiar excites wonder also.

Music is essentially useless, as life is; but both have an ideal extension which lends utility to its conditions.

We need sometimes to escape into open solitudes, into aimlessness, into the moral holiday of running some pure hazard in order to sharpen the edge of life, to taste hardship, and to be compelled to work desperately for a moment at no matter what.