Quotes About Music

Sed et anima hominis symphoniam in se habet et symphonizans est, unde etiam multotiens plantus educit, cum symphoniam audit, quoniam de patria in exilium se missam meminit.

I put on the earphones of my portable CD player and listen to Non-Stop Trance Adventure. As I dance, I begin to feel warm and turn off the heat. I wonder why I'm such a difficult person and I look up at the heater and think of my stubbornness. Tears stream down my face, but I keep on dancing.

Each of you will have a chance to play it, and whosoever plays most sweetly, you will have it. For art is more than virtue or vice.

Everyone danced -- sweaty bodies packed tight, drunk with sound.

Locke craves dramatic experiences. And as Master of Revels, he can create these- I don't even know what to call them- stories. He doesn't so much think of a party as food and drinks and music, but rather a dynamic that might create conflict.

Polyhymnia's

A hob played a lute strung with another reveler's hair.

We clasp hands and join the circle dance, leaping and laughing. The song feels as though it is calling my blood, moving it through my veins to the same ragged beat, with the same sweet chords.

and I learned more at the hands of Carl Wilson than I learned from anybody else. He taught me a fuck of a lot of guitar playing. That man is a good guitar player.

Lovehandles, the station where love is more than just a song. This is Peter `Punch' O'Brien and Judy Bently. Punch and Judy in the morning.

It is as absurd to say that a man can't love one woman all the time as it is to say that a violinist needs several violins to play the same piece of music.

Music is the effort we make to explain to ourselves how our brains work. We listen to Bach transfixed because this is listening to a human mind.

We are a spectacular, splendid manifestation of life. We have language. . . . We have affection We have genes for usefulness, and usefulness is about as close to a 'common goal' of nature as I can guess at. And finally, and perhaps best of all, we have music.

We pass the word around we ponder how the case is put by different people, we read the poetry we meditate over the literature we play the music we change our minds we reach an understanding. Society evolves this way, not by shouting each other down, but by the unique capacity of unique, individual human beings to comprehend each other.

My little boat is made of ebony; My flute stops are pure gold. Water loosens stains from silk; Wine loosens sadness from the heart. With good wine, a graceful boat, And a sweet girl's love, Why be jealous of mere gods?

It's so amazing to hear a crowd of people singing one of your songs. It's the best feeling.

We've always described our sound as a bit more guitar driven than normal pop music. Kind of Pink in a boy band form. We've heard a few people say that so now we use it. I think Pink is amazing person to be compared to.

Two musicians could play the same notes and sound entirely different. Intonation was everything.

One of the multitudes of exboyfriends had been a country music fan and left Gemma with an unfortunate passion for Tammy Wynette. It was like, Cat thought, he'd given her herpes.

It was as though he had an amazing skill, like playing a complicated musical instrument, that Alice could never hope to master.

She had taken her time getting ready for tonight: a long steamy bath with a glass of wine and a Violent Femmes CD.

The violent chords and strident voices were so startlingly different from the chiming, bubbling relaxation tapes she played all day that it was like having a bucket of cold water thrown over her head. The Violent Femmes reminded her of the eighties, and being a teenager, and feeling supercharged with hormones and hope.

A música é o silêncio entre as notas. — CLAUDE DEBUSSY

The time there was only the one warm-up room for everyone, a room so astonishingly hot and airless and noisy, so crowded with extraordinarily talented-seeming musicians, that everything had begun to spin like a merry-go-round, and a French cellist had reached out a languid hand to save Clementine's cello as it slipped from her grasp. (She was a champion fainter.) The