The sound of the harpsichord resembles that of a bird-cage played with toasting-forks.

I find brass bands have a melancholy sound. All right out of doors, of course - fifty miles away. Like bagpipes, they turn what had been a dream into a public nuisance.

The sound of a harpsichord - two skeletons copulating on a tin roof in a thunderstorm.

Her singing reminds me of a cart coming downhill with the brake on.

We cannot expect you to be with us all the time, but perhaps you could be good enough to keep in touch now and again.

No woman is worth the loss of a night's sleep.

If an opera cannot be played by an organ grinder, it's not going to achieve immortality.