It was sad music. But it waved its sadness like a battle flag. It said the universe had done all it could, but you were still alive.

DEAFNESS DOESN'T PREVENT COMPOSERS HEARING THE MUSIC. IT PREVENTS THEM HEARING THE DISTRACTIONS.

There are millions of chords. There are millions of numbers. And everyone forgets the one that is a zero. But without the zero, numbers are just arithmetic. Without the empty chord, music is just noise.

They say that the eyes of some paintings can follow you around the room, a fact that I doubt, but I am wondering whether some music can follow you for ever.

But this didn't feel like magic. It felt a lot older than that. It felt like music.

Big fat hairy monkey, hands a couple of octaves wide?

Once people get the idea that they can listen to music for nothing, where will it end?

I know good music when I sees it," she said, handing it to Bucket and pointing excitedly at extracts. "It's got blobs and curly bits all over it, see?

We had been taken somewhere and brought back and we were different people, longing for another journey into paradise, no matter what hell we had to atone for on the way.