Quotes About Music

The wren and the nightingale sound nothing alike, but think how dull the world would be without the songs of both birds.

When a group of people sing together, we make up a chorus. When birds do, it's more like a whole symphony orchestra.

She snuck a guilty peek at Matt. She didn't want to be selfish, she didn't want to hurt him, but music was who she was. If she didn't have that, she didn't have anything. As long as she was going to let him have it back eventually, surely he could survive sharing part of his valley until she remembered how to sing?

if you sing a sad song loud enough, the boys on those torpedo boats can hear you under the sea.

The letters, the fading. The labyrinth, the cake. The four hundred brackish lakes of the brain. She searches for the music, but she can't find it. Oh, God, it was here only the other day.

I was there, where the pale words, like light on a wave. Where the forgotten music was still played. The lovers, gone. Their beds unmade.

My feelings for Liam couldn't be processed as a single thought. He'd become a symphony in my mind, composed of boundless crescendos that never reached a logical end.

The romanticised life, where all the great poetry and music and art of the world comes from, is great but it requires a lot of self-indulgence.

Sometimes his brain works if he can manage it like music, like a song, like a river that does not halt. So he singsongs it: "Tell you what I'm gonna do, see." With the accent, like a Brooklyn

On the boardwalk the arcade jukebox plays all night surrounded by teenagers--sometimes twenty bodies deep, bare-skinned and full of energy for the music, for one another, for life, for the little bit of freedom they taste in the salt air and their skin. My father finds his place in this crowd. They are a force together. They don't do drugs. They don't drink. But they do music, and their power comes from their numbers and the thrill of being young on the beach at night.

Why we all need a night off I developed this rule because I have seen the difference it makes in my own life, a difference not dissimilar from the glow Hannah developed. I love to sing. So I've made a habit of seeking out community choirs wherever I live. After moving to New York City in 2002, I joined three ensembles as a way to get my work-from-home-self dressed and out of the apartment at least three evenings per week.

Never say God - and the Beatles - don't have great timing.

Each note floated over the listeners like a feather held aloft by the breath of angels.

When people began singing again, instead of trying to see the woman, Chiaretta looked at the air in front of the voice, trying to understand how something invisible could be so beautiful.

The music whirled and flirted with the air, spinning like snowflakes in an alley.

She shut her eyes, her head full of music yearning to be played.

I like to sing in the car with the windows rolled down and hair blowing all over my face.

I wish Frank Sinatra would just shut up and sing.

The viola da gamba sonatas, the same recording he was listening to now. Vittorio Ghielmi on gamba and Lorenzo Ghielmi on the fortepiano. He loved this recording for its clarity, and for its combination of melancholy and high spirits.

Music was alchemy. Music was sex. When it was right, when everything fit together just perfectly, it was better than any feeling he'd ever experienced.

If everyone started off the day singing, just think how happy they'd be.

Mama Sweetie said you didn't need a reason to sing. She said if everyone started off the day singing, just think how happy they'd be.

My angel-boy is close now, as in five-feet-away close. There's no way I'm going to burst into song in front of him. But then the contrary part of me says, you're going to let a boy keep you from singing out loud? Sing, sister! Sing! So I do, and my angel-boy turns his head.

It was almost pleasant, in a life-sucks-but-at-least-there's-good-music sort of way.