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Quote by Dustin Lee

“The frontier isn’t always a place. Sometimes it’s a season of your life. The space between who you were and who you might still become.”

Quote by Dustin Lee

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Dustin Lee

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“Existence is mathematical music, and all of us are the instruments playing the cosmic symphony. Our task is simple - to arrive not at any old music, but the finest music that can possibly be played. The ideal music is reached when every player is in perfect harmony with every other player, and not a single discordant note is played.”

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Book:The Musical Theory of Existence: Hearing the Music of the Spheres
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“The voiceover promised a baker in Terre Haute, Indiana, who saw colors when he heard music, every note bringing with it a vivid shade on the color spectrum. There was a flutist in Hamburg, Germany, who experienced flavors as shapes and textures. Her favorite was white asparagus, which was a pleasing hexagonal form with smooth bumps all over its surface. There was a writer in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, who saw all her words in colors because each letter of the alphabet appeared to her in a different hue. According to the voiceover, the name of the writer's hometown, with its preponderance of vowels, which were jewel tones of reds and oranges and pinks, was her favorite word.”

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Book:Bitter in the Mouth
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“But, Mr. Harrison, did you never consider a career in music or, perhaps, as a visual artist?" the interviewer persisted. "I have a high school diploma. Guys like me, we don't consider careers. We get a job," Corny said. You're asking him the wrong questions. Ask about the sound of granulated sugar being poured into a stainless-steel bowl, the whirring motor of an electric mixer, or his fist punching down bread dough. A flat, B minor, or C sharp? Or did he prefer music made by others when he worked? If yes, then ask what songs and colors moved this man to make the lightest cakes, the chewiest cookies, breads with tender crusts?”

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Book:Bitter in the Mouth
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“The music broke her apart and put her back together, only to rend her asunder again and again. And then the climax, the compilation of all the sounds she had loved best, amplified until they echoed into eternity. As the final note swelled, a gasp broke from her, setting the tears in her eyes spilling down her face. She didn't care who saw.”

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Book:The Assassin's Blade
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“She hurried into a new spring evening dress of the frailest fairy blue. In the excitement of seeing herself in it, it seemed as if she had shed the old skin of winter and emerged a shining chrysalis with no stain; and going downstairs her feet fell softly just off the beat of the music from below. It was a tune from a play she had seen a week ago in New York, a tune with a future...”

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Book:The Basil and Josephine Stories
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“A single tune danced through his mind and all his attention rested upon it. It was a tune that seethed through the magical flood, shaped it, formed it, lived through it hugely, lived through it minutely, was its very essence. It bounced and trilled along, at first a little tripping tune, then it slowed, then it danced again but with more difficulty, seemed to founder in eddies of doubt and confusion, and then suddenly revealed that the eddies were just the first ripples of a huge new wave of energy surging up joyfully from underneath.”

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Book:Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency
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“There is no communication possible between men any longer, now that the codes have been destroyed, including even the code of exchange in repetition. We are all condemned to silence - unless we create our own relation with the world and try to tie other people into the meaning we thus create. That is what composing is. Doing solely for the sake of doing, without trying artificially to recreate the old codes in order to reinsert communication into them. Inventing new codes, inventing the message at the same time as the language. Playing for one's own pleasure, which alone can create the conditions for new communication. A concept such as this seems natural in the context of music. But it reaches far beyond that; it relates to the emergence of the free act, self-transcendence, pleasure of being instead of having.”

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Book:Noise: The Political Economy of Music
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