Quotes About Music

El amor es, en muchas cosas, como la música: llega allí donde las palabras sobran

If you took away James's obsession with Judas Priest, you would have just another young man with goals and ambitions that changed day to day, with unrealistic expectations of the world, and without the perseverance or self-discipline to succeed at any endeavor.

No matter what their choice of music, in the lives of too many teenagers, recognition is more meaningful than accomplishment

My dad didn't want me to play guitar. He played piano, so I chose that. And I ended up loving it.

River mostly contributed backing vocals and handclaps, although he may have played some guitar on "Rock Out with Your Cock Out.

Aleka is a poet-philosopher. The Attic is a meeting place where he lives and he has a secret society. They come and visit him and read his works. He then dies and they meet irregularly and continue the readings of his works, and from that learn their own, and become filled with this new passion for life. And they express it through music and form a band. We've put it in a fairy-tale setting.

While Mathis, Rain, and Joaquin were waiting at the elevator, River changed his mind- either because he wanted to keep partying or because he was falling into his usual paternal role, taking care of his younger siblings He ran down the hall, shouting, "I'm coming, I'm coming!" River grabbed his guitar, planning to get onstage with his old friend Flea, and they rode the elevator down.

Please Mia," he implores. "Don't make me write a song.

And then Adam Wilde shows up at Carnegie Hall on the biggest night of my career, and it felt like more than a coincidence. It felt like a gift. From them. For my first recital ever, they gave me a cello. And for this one, they gave me you.

I want you to play me like a cello.

The music is the void. And you're the reason why.

Mia and I had been together for more than two years, and yes, it was a high school romance, but it was still the kind of romance where I thought we were trying to find a way to make it forever, the kind that, had we met five years later and had she not been some cello prodigy and had I not been in a band on the rise - or had our lives not been ripped apart by all this -I was pretty sure it would've been.

Who says I breathe music? Who says I even breathe?

It's like the piano and the cello are being poured into my body, the same way the IV and blood transfusions are. And the memories of my life as it was, and the flashes of it as it might be, are coming so fast and furious. I feel like I can no longer keep up with them but they keep coming and everything is colliding, until I cannot take anymore. Until I cannot be like this a second longer.

Mia's smile is melting chocolate. It's a kick-ass guitar solo. It's everything good in this world.

We were both music-obsessed, each in our own way. If we didn't entirely understand the other person's obsession, it didn't matter, because we understood our own.

All relationships are tough. Just like with music, sometimes you have harmony and other times you have cacophony.

Then the musical instruments appeared. Dad's snare drum from the house, Henry's guitar from his car, Adam's spare guitar from my room. Everyone was jamming together, singing songs: Dad's songs, Adam's songs, old Clash songs, old Wipers songs. Teddy was dancing around, the blond of his hair reflecting the golden flames. I remember watching it all and getting that tickling in my chest and thinking to myself: This is what happiness feels like.

Adam is mumbling something now. In a low voice. Over and over he is saying: please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Finally, he stops and looks at my face. "Please, Mia," he implores. "Don't make me write a song.

Todas las relaciones son difíciles. Igual que en la música, a veces tienes armonía y a veces cacofonía.

If music be the food of love, play on

Sometimes I did feel like I came from a different tribe. I was not like my outgoing, ironic dad or my tough-chick mom. And as if to seal the deal, instead of learning to play electric guitar, I'd gone and chosen the cello.

Mia ¿No lo entiendes? La música es el vacío y tú eres la razón de eso

Your mother is probably right," Dad said. "Social services frowns on drunk ten-year-ols. Besides, when I dropped my drumsticks and puked onstage, it was punk. If you drop your bow and smell like a brewery, it will look gauche. You classical-music people are so snobby that way.