After silence, the closest thing to expressing the inexpressible is music. There are two ways of taking refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats. One who has no music in herself, nor is moved by the concord of sweet voices, Fit for treason, deceit, and plunder; Her spirit movements were dull as night, and her affections were dark like Erebus. Don’t let people like that be trusted. Bookmark the music.