Quotes About Song

Assad whistled a few notes of one of his native country's melancholic songs. It sounded as though he was whistling backwards

Loretta started belting out a song: "Row, row, row your boat, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G !

A friend hears the song in my heart and sings it to me when my memory fails.

If your love had a song what would it be? Could you soul continuously thrive without its rhythm?

A bell is no bell 'til you ring it, a song is no song 'til you sing it, and love in your heart wasn't put there to stay. Love isnt love 'til you give it away.

His [Death] voice is cold at first, John. It seems unfeeling. But if you listen without fear, you find that when he speaks, the most ordinary words become poetry. When he stands close to you, your life becomes a song, a praise. When he touches you, your smallest talents become gold; the most ordinary loves break your heart with their beauty.

Each successive phrase of our life leads toward a shared future where our climaxes, stumbles, codas, and masterpieces unravel from our dreams like a song that was always half-written in our souls, until this day.

I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, who has sight so keen and strong That it can follow the flight of song? Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroken; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.

Gather yourself by the sea shore and I will love you there. Asemble yourself with wild things, with songs of the sparrow and seafoam. Let mad beauty collect itself in you eyes and it will shine, Calling me. For I long for a man with nests of wild things in his hair. A man who will Kiss the Flame.

Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never go wrong; And I am Marie of Rumania

Life is a song, sing it. Life is a game, play it. Life is a challenge, meet it. Life is a dream, realize it. Life is a sacrifice, offer it. Life is love, enjoy it.

His bite will be cruel, but his tongue cunning, His breath seductive, but his grip deadly. The Dragon knows only hunger, never sated, Only thirst, never quenched. —Song of Venda

From the seed of the thief The Dragon will rise, the gluttonous one, feeding on the blood of babes, Drinking the tears of mothers. —Song of Venda

The universe sang your name to me. I simply sang it back.

Bella, bella, Isabella. Dat is een Taliaans liedje, weet je. Ach, natuurlijk weet je dat. Tenminste, als je Taliaanse bent, mooie Isabella. - Andrea

As I stand among the barren gulches in these days and look away at the slow-awakening hills of Montana, I hear the high, swelling, half tired, half-hopeful song of the world. As I listen I know that there are things, other than the Virtue and the Truth and the Love, that are not for me. There is beyond me, like these, the unbreaking, undying bond of human fellowship—a thing that is earth-old.

Give us a song to cheer        Our weary hearts,               a song of home,        And friends we love so dear.

It's justice that He's bringing. It's hidden inside a song. No one's stuck in the middle... the battle is already won.

Do you know the Muffawoo? The Muffawoo, the Muffawoo! Do you know the Muffawoo, Who lives on Drury Lane?

Apples, apples, apples." Cassiopeia sang along

Lumawoo apples, la la la!

You've the heart of a chanter who loves one song at sunup and another at sundown. Don't you see that both are part of the same day?

A warbler singing— somewhere beyond the willow, before the thicket

Skylark sings all day, and day not long enough.