Or music heard so deeply That it is not heard at all, but you are the music While the music lasts. - T. S. Eliot

You are the music while the music lasts.

For I have known them all already,known them all.
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall,
Beneath the music from a farther room. So how should I presume?

Redeem The time. Redeem The unread vision in the higher dream While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity, For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity. You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square — But when a crime's discovered, then Macavity's not there!