I am a rainworm, buried deep Among the oozing, slimy things, Yet of an eagle's nest I dream, And eagle's wings. - Itzhak Peretz

A people's memory is history; and as a man without a memory, so a people without a history cannot grow wiser, better.

There are melodies that must have words... and melodies that sing themselves without words. The latter are of a higher grade. But these, too, depend on a voice and lips,... hence are not yet altogether pure, not yet genuine spirit. Genuine melody sings itself without a voice. It sings inside, within the heart, in man's very entrails!

The worst dog gets the best bone.