“When you’ve been on a boat for a while, its sounds gets to be like the sound of your own heartbeat. It’s always there, constant, steady, until after a while you don’t hear it anymore. Then something changes. The speed, or the rhythm, or the tune. Suddenly the sound rings in your ears.”

“When you hear clip-clop-clip outside your window in most cases the sound will be made by a horse, but once in a while (rarely), a zebra will be responsible for the sound.”

“I don't like ringing the bell at the door. Its' tingaling just sounds beautiful. It makes one equal innocent sound, and it doesn't matter who is ringing. But knocking is distinctive. Human beats something physically - you can hear the reflected feeling. Of course, the hand always gets slightly painful.”

“I don’t like the sound of all those lists he’s making – it’s like taking too many notes at school; you feel you’ve achieved something when you haven’t.”

“Sometimes when you are standing still and it’s snowing, you think that you hear music. You can’t tell where it’s coming from either. I wondered if we all really did have a soundtrack, but we just get so used to it that we can’t hear it anymore, the same way that we block out the sound of our own heartbeat.”

“...music is about as physical as it gets: your essential rhythm is your heartbeat; your essential sound, the breath. We're walking temples of noise, and when you add tender hearts to this mix, it somehow lets us meet in places we couldn't get to any other way.”