Quotes About Song

A basso sings, and a soprano answers him. Then there is thunder in a clear blue sky, And, from the earth, a sigh: "This song is finished.

Titanic city was born. It's the song, they said. No, the sea, the luxury, the ship. It's the sex, they whispered. Leo, said Aziza sheepishly. It's all about Leo. Everybody wants Jack, Laila said to Mariam. That's what it is. Everybody wants Jack to rescue them from disaster.

And the great spirit of darkness spread a shroud over me ... everything was silent--everything. But up in the heights soughed the everlasting song, the voice of the air, the distant, toneless humming which is never silent. I listened so long to this ceaseless faint murmur that it began to bewilder me; it was surely a symphony from the rolling spheres above. Stars that intone a song....

B. You're pop-culturally illiterate not to know that this number is a song.

Eight-six-seven-five-three-oh-nine—

and as they walked along he sang Tol-de-ri-de-oh! at every step, he felt so gay.

Don't tell anyone I'm a poet; they might want me to write a book. Don't tell 'em I can sing, or they'd want me to make records for that awful phonograph. Haven't time to be a public benefactor, so I'll just sing you this little song for your own amusement.

Tol-de-ri-de-oh!

Art is borne out of necessity. Music is a tool and men are doers. When a relationship is working, you don't need to write a song-you need to get toilet paper.

Try to take your vision and ego as far away from the song as possible. Give as much respect as you can to the song and the initial inspiration.

You are the promised kiss of springtime that makes the lonely winter seem long. You are the breathless hush of evening that trembles on the brink of a lovely song.

When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me

I love the script and I just thought it was a great role. Like I say, it's like this - the script is like this sad, funny, desperate love song to the lost American man.

God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone; He that sings a lasting song Thinks in a marrow-bone.

I think it's a wonderful song," she said. But she was only shielding his pride, he knew. Obviously this was the first time she had ever heard the song, though she pretended to know it well. She can't penetrate to the feelings deep down in a song like this; or see through the murk of my manhood to the longing that sometimes makes me weep; fair enough: then as far as I'm concerned, she's just another body.

Like picnics—only when you're sure of a good roof over your head would you even think of eating out of doors, of making a song and dance about eating under a tree.

Let me be kind, let me be compassionate, let me be joyful, and let me sing a song of love.

Over the boundary of time, hope transcends, desire sings one verse, one song, and that is the song of happiness.

THE FIRST ROOTS CREEP UP I am learning to come upon the tree, slowly, to surprise it For the song its memorizing. The water runs up, the sap Runs down… I will carry water for you, if you ask me. If someone Asks me What differences between trees and me? Each is Beholden to rivers. each knows thirst. In those countries where trees walk, they go barefoot, singing madrigals… excerpt, Collected in: Sisters of the Earth: Women's Prose and Poetry About Nature by Lorraine Anderson

People don't realize, he said, how important it is to wake up every morning with a song in your heart." J. Krishnamurti. "The song stands for a sense of joy in existence, a joy that is free of any good or bad choices.

Our love is like a song, but you won't sing along.

His lips began moving with the lyrics. Every long-lost dream . . . He was singing them to her, and she wanted to believe he meant them. Believe he felt the way the song's writer had, that the other women had only been a sign pointing him back to her.

That Passeth All Understanding" An awe so quiet I don't know when it began. A gratitude had begun to sing in me. Was there some moment dividing song from no song? When does dewfall begin? When does night fold its arms over our hearts to cherish them? When is daybreak?

An awe so quiet I don't know when it began. A gratitude had begun to sing in me. Was there some moment dividing song from no song? When does dewfall begin? When does night fold its arms over our hearts to cherish them? When is daybreak?