My soul is a hidden orchestra; I know not what instruments, what fiddlestrings and harps, drums and tamboura I sound and clash inside myself. All I hear is the symphony.

Work hard in silence, let your success be your noise.

As grandma said, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all

Think most of what matters. Think less of what doesn’t.

OY! Stop playing around and lets cook already!”*smack*J-just now, that made a really loud noise..”Do you wanna hear it again?”N-no, you’ll just hit me again!”Kyo and Tohru

…the solitude was intoxicating. On my first night there I lay on my back on the sticky carpet for hours, in the murky orange pool of city glow coming through the window, smelling heady curry...

The tumultuous noise resolved itself now into the disorderly mingling of many voices, the gride of many wheels, the creaking of wagons, and the staccato of hoofs.

Every sex noise can be converted into a note and frozen in a can of soda. Ask me about menstruation music today!

Music without passion is merely noise. A life without passion? You may as well be dead.