In time, such is the nature of time, we exhaust the familiar combinations. In time, so wide is the world, there is no place left but the places we have not gone before. In time, the faithful phrases that represented us are battered out of shape, so dependably and so long have they risen to each occasion. And we their followers have also lost our shape, refashioning ourselves out of comfort in their decaying image. In time then we come, of necessity, to the repetition of the thirteen notes. And when we do so, there are those who listening will say that that repetition of thirteen notes, that is not enough, that does not describe its subject. And there are others who will say those thirteen notes, yes. And there are others still who will say those thirteen notes, they go somewhat beyond what is required; they reach their zenith too soon; they leave no place left to go.