Ballet shoes... I cannot play with them like they're toys. But when the music is playing they get deep on my toes.
I have just awoken, having dreamed of music. The final chord fades away within me while I try to focus on individuals amid the living, breathing mass packed into this vast waiting room, in this mixture of sleep and weariness.
You cannot taste a song but you can feel the tune relishing your heart where strings of music belong.
I am sad, like the hot dust on the streetsAnd the music of fresh fallen leavesCaught in a sliding summer breeze.
That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.
And I love Jane Austen's use of language too--the way she takes her time to develop a phrase and gives it room to grow, so that these clever, complex statements form slowly and then bloom in my mind. Beethoven does the same thing with his cadence and phrasing and structure. It's a fact: Jane Austen is musical. And so's Yeats. And Wordsworth. All the great writers are musical.