The harp's master was dead, but it continued to play and sing for the boy that stole him away. Even though it was stuck up and conceited, somewhere the harp had a heart and knew it was doing good.

I am a musician, and I will continue to play for my own benefit and nobody else's. If people want to listen, fine. If not, fine. I don't care. I do hope that they keep me so well polished, though. My master was never that good with me.