Quotes About Piano

I like to tinkle at my piano when I'm working out a new song - I just put my fingers down and see what comes out.

I do have a way of playing piano where it's very melodic and emotional, but then often it's great if whoever's singing doesn't sing exactly what's in the piano melody, but maybe it's connected in some way.

I only started playing piano because I had chickenpox when I was about 14 and wasn't allowed to play my drums for a whole week... We had a piano in the house, so I just sat down and played that instead.

I was the product of very young parents, and they had wild ways. My mother was in a punk band. Rebelling would have been learning to play piano.

I had piano lessons at five and started guitar at ten, but although music and acting was always around me, my parents never pressured me into it.

I spent ten years playing classical piano, and that was what led to keyboards and eventually to production and to Linkin Park.

At 9, I think I had really gotten into tennis. I liked writing short stories; I loved solving math problems. I was learning a little piano, and I was collecting Garbage Pail Kids cards.

I'm fascinated by the notion of a perpetual sound: a sound that won't dissipate over time. Essentially, the opposite of a piano, because the notes never fade. I suppose, in literary terms, it would be like a metaphor for eternity.

I started playing piano with a little band in high school. I was terrible. I thought I had absolutely no talent. I couldn't keep time. I only got into McGill, which was a lousy music school, because they were taking American music students.

If, while at the piano, you attempt to form little melodies, that is very well; but if they come into your mind of themselves, when you are not practising, you may be still more pleased; for the internal organ of music is then roused in you. The fingers must do what the head desires; not the contrary.

Let's hear the sound of the baby pianny.

So, sitting at the dear little piano, Beth softly touched the keys, and in the sweet voice they had never thought to hear again, sang to her own accompaniment the quaint hymn, which was a singularly fitting song for her.

and how they all laughed at her because she woke Amy in the night by playing the piano on her face in her sleep.

I learned two important things about the sound I was searching for: that it had to be indirect, refracted or muffled in some way; and that the sound had to give the impression that it would continue forever- the sound of someone practicing piano heard faintly from an unknown direction, or the sound of gentle rain outside a window, punctuated by drops falling on the casement.

have been in the war? Suddenly she said, "Are you the piano player, upstairs?" For that was how she and John had come to refer to him, The piano player, upstairs. He turned his nose to her again, warily now. "I play," he said. She nodded. "We hear you," she told him. "My husband and I, we listen," she said. Every

It was already there," he said. "Someone left it behind. They didn't want it. The super said they couldn't even rent the apartment for a few weeks because it takes up the whole bedroom and nobody wanted to pay to take it out. Can you believe it? A Steinway." "Lucky that you play," she said. She

Saw in her mind's eye that delicious moment when Stan—a version of the piano player himself, when you thought about it—smiled the sweet self-satisfied smile that always preceded the double take, the panic, the inevitable disaster. (Down, down, down the keyboard he went and down, down, down in her mind's eye went the poor piano.) Images that stayed with her even as John woke and

With her eyes to the ceiling she said, "It's a baby grand." Her husband turned his head on the pillow. He might have been startled to find her there. He frowned, and then hesitated, and then whispered, disbelieving, "You can tell already?

The most influential time in my life musically was definitely those piano lessons.

I play piano and guitar. Acoustic guitar. I tried studying classical guitar when I was 16 but it got really hard. I could never play a lead to save my life.

I have been playing the piano for my entire life - since I was three.

I'd never seen a guy my own age play the piano. It was like sex and musical theatre fused together.

The melody rose, unprofitably magical. It broke; it was resumed broken, not marching once from the cradle to the grave. The sadness of the incomplete—the sadness that is often Life, but should never be Art—throbbed in its disjected phrases, and made the nerves of the audience throb. Not thus had she played on the little draped piano at the Bertolini, and "Too much Schumann" was not the remark that Mr. Beebe had passed to himself when she returned.

I never took guitar lessons. I took classical piano lessons from the age of six when we lived in Holland. And when we moved to America, it was just the typical thing except I was really good at it so was my brother.