If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again! it had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! - William Shakespeare
If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die. - William Shakespeare