It is a terrible wowing in my ears.

But that may be something in my individual atmosphere; some strange deflection as your music crosses the space between us.

Certainly I never hear the concert of World Regeneration and Hope Revived Again without getting a sort of lock-jaw, my teeth go so keen on edge from the twanging harmony.
Still, the world-regenerators may _really_ be quite excellent performers on their own jews'-harps.

Blame the edginess of my teeth.
Now I am going to launch words into space so mind your cosmic eye.
As I said in my small but naturally immortal book, "Psychoanalysis and the Unconscious," there's more in it than meets the eye.

There's more in you, dear reader, than meets the eye.