Music seems to me to act like yawning or laughter; I have no desire to sleep, but I yawn when I see others yawn; with no reason to laugh, I laugh when I hear others laugh.

And music transports me immediately into the condition of soul in which he who wrote the music found himself at that time.

I become confounded with his soul, and with him I pass from one condition to another.

But why that?
I know nothing about it?
But he who wrote Beethoven's 'Kreutzer Sonata' knew well why he found himself in a certain condition.

That condition led him to certain actions, and for that reason to him had a meaning, but to me none, none whatever.