All bangos and catarrhs aside, the naked voice, as Crow Sister so beautifully calls it, is the very pennant of the living soul, the heart's own standard waving in the wind of a moment; and to hear it sing is an offering of such faith as to honor even the most occasional bystander.

This is so easy to overlook when you don't like the particular tunefulness or timbre of the voice; but these are shallow impediments to seeing something much more beautiful in the soul that has the courage to sing on its very own. Relish it. That's my point of view, anyway.


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