The question of desire for repetition also struck me. I would say that repetition is not the same as beginning anew, at least in the sense that Cioran meant. There is a certain sense of completeness, to the end of a great piece of music, the feeling that it could be no other way. We don't try to force the piece to go on playing in new ways in our head - except perhaps if you have real musical talent.
By contrast, many great thoughts in philosophy kick off, with excitement and enthusiasm, a rush to test the idea, play it out in new ways, see how we could rephrase it, put it up against other great thoughts, and on and on. This, I believe, is what Cioran means, and it is also where I believe that style can step in. After reading something that is perfectly phrased, particularly poetry, I experience a great contentment that matches even music. While much good poetry often leads me to that same rush, a great piece can have a feeling of completeness, wholeness. I may re-read the piece immediately, but I don't try to begin something anew off of it. It stands as it is, to be experienced.
I agree entirely with everything you wrote about music. Except that there does seem to be certain mood associations with certain notes, such as a sensation of dread associated with low notes. There must be something physiological to the matter, if some of the things I've read about are true, but that still is not a meaning, much less a question. Anything like a question is put together in the mind. To quote one of the Zen patriarchs, "It is not the wind that moves; it is not the flag that moves; it is your mind that moves."


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