"Noise has one advantage. It drowns out words." And suddenly he
realized that all his life he had done nothing but talk, write,
lecture, concoct sentences, search for formulations and amend them,
so in the end no words were precise, their meanings were obliterated,
their content lost, they turned into trash, chaff, dust, sand;
prowling through his brain, tearing at his head, they were his
insomnia, his illness. And what he yearned for at that moment,
vaguely but with all his might, was unbounded music, absolute sound,
a pleasant and happy all-encompassing, over-powering, window-rattling
din to engulf, once and for all, the pain, the futility, the vanity
of words. Music was the negation of sentences, music was the
anti-word!
-- Milan Kundera. Unbearable Lightness of Being.