“there was no gleam, no shadow, for the heavens, too, were one still, pale cloud; no sound or motion in anything but the dark river that flowed and moaned like an unresting sorrow.”

“The river is motion, turmoil, rage. As the river flows, it wonders what it would be like to be so still, to take a breath, to rest. But the rock will always wonder what lies around the bend in the stream.”

“When thou are not pleased, beloved,Then my heart is sad and darkened,As the shining river darkensWhen the clouds drop shadows on it!When thou smilest, my beloved,Then my troubled heart is brightened,As in sunshine gleam the ripplesThat the cold wind makes in rivers.”

“The deepest rivers flow with the least sound.”

“We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,Streaking the darkness radiantly!--yet soonNight closes round, and they are lost for ever;Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant stringsGive various response to each varying blast,To whose frail frame no second motion bringsOne mood or modulation like the last.We rest. -- A dream has power to poison sleep;We rise. -- One wandering thought pollutes the day;We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:It is the same!--For, be it joy or sorrow,The path of its departure still is free:Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;Nought may endure but Mutability.”

“Joy, sorrow, tears, lamentation, laughter -- to all these music gives voice, but in such a way that we are transported from the world of unrest to a world of peace, and see reality in a new way, as if we were sitting by a mountain lake and contemplating hills and woods and clouds in the tranquil and fathomless water.”