You could walk out of the house, but you always returned home.

The light is what guides you home, the warmth is what keeps you there.

Keeping calm is just impossible when it comes to missing my home.

Home is not a place it’s a feeling.

A home is a place you grow up wanting to leave and grow old wanting to get back to.

Sitting here missing home like crazy.

You only hate the road when you are missing home.

There’s no place like home. And I do miss my home.

If you go anywhere, even paradise, you will miss your home.

I just want to come back home.

Music is like a dream. One that I cannot hear

Music is the mediator between the spiritual and the sensual life.

How is it that music can, without words, evoke our laughter, our fears, our highest aspirations?

Music is an agreeable harmony for the honor of God and the permissible delights of the soul.

Music begins where the possibilities of language end.

Music is enough for a lifetime, but a lifetime is not enough for music.

I like beautiful melodies telling me terrible things.

I’ve always said music should make you laugh, make you cry or make you think.

Music is the universal language of mankind.