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 English may not like music, but they absolutely love the noise it makes.

Magical music never leaves the memory.

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

Great music is that which penetrates the ear with facility and leaves the memory with difficulty. Magical music never leaves the memory.

There are no woman composers, never have been and possibly never will be.

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