“This grimoire was written in the language of angels.""Shouldn't that be,like, harp music or chanting, and not hard-core hieroglyphics?”
“Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings.”
“...For like a rugged tree you are hard and sound at the core.”
“I’m not an angel. I don’t live in heaven or play a golden harp or have heart-to-heart conversations with the Almighty.”
“Music is a language - and language, at its finest, should be music.”
“The beach has a language of its own, with its undulating ribbons of silt, the imponderable hieroglyphs of bird tracks. The receding waves catch on innumerable holes in the sand. Bubbles form and fade. A new language, with a new alphabet...”