Writing about music seems to be impossible. And maybe one has to leave things unsaid, when it comes to music. According to Wittgenstein there is a striking difference between saying and showing. There are things that just can be shown but never said, which might be probably true for music too. This may lead to the core of Quiet Corners: to show something that cannot be said, to show a kind of sadness that resists articulation. As a matter of fact, showing sadness oscillates between two different locations: the site of the music itself and the site of my own listening. What is shown in music occurs in the gap between music and listening. Somehow even the name 'Quiet Corners" can be read as movement between two different locations: the distant, Quiet Corners, where this music comes from, and our own Quiet Corners within. Moreover, Quiet Corners show the fundamental impossibility to distinguish where that emerging sadness originally comes from, whether from music's or from our own pre-existing corners. It seems impossible to discern these two locations. Quiet Corners shows this impossibility. They sing it.