Musil's Piano

'The piano hammered iridescent notes on a wall of air. Although this occurrence was wholly and completely real in origin, the walls of the room disappeared, and in their place arose the golden wrap of music, that mysterious place where self and world, perception and feeling, inner and outer collapsed in indefiniteness upon one another and itself consists wholly and completely of sensation, definiteness, exactness, indeed of a hierarchy of the sheen of ordered details. Attached to these sensual details were threads of feeling running out of the heaving vapour of souls; and this vapour was mirrored in the precision of the walls and seemed to itself clear.’

--Robert Musil