A friend gave me a CD of the 'Pathetique' Symphony as a Christmas present. I went home and I put on the CD expecting to listen to Tchaikovsky. But it started 'ta ta ta taaa.' It was too long for me. I didn't understand it at first but then I fell in love in love in love.
The reserve of modern assertions is sometimes pushed to extremes in which the fear of being contradicted leads the writer to strip himself of almost all sense and meaning.
