The soul of each one of us has its destination, and that is the Divine Heart. What is true of each of us is true of all the world. Walt Whitman in his strong, urgent way cries: "One thought ever at the fore, that in the Divine Ship, the world breasting time and space, all peoples of the globe together sail, sail the same voyage, are bound to the same destination." Some such thought as this is surely necessary for the bare subsistence of a soul, for our souls cannot live without the sense of destination.
In a sense great music exists for the sake of its pauses; for instance, the pauses that occur in the middle of a Beethoven symphony. These pauses are of course quite unlike bits of ordinary silence, because the whole symphony has led up to them — they are held and defined, and the music goes on the other side of them. Such pauses are silence charged with meaning. Music transcends music by producing charged silence.
