Quotes About Music

But isn't this a dance? Isn't all of this a dance? Isn't that what we do with words? Isn't that what we do when we talk, when we spar, when we make plans or leave it to chance? Some of its choreographed. Some of the steps have been done for ages. And the rest- the rest is spontaneous. The rest has to be decided on the floor, in the moment, before the music ends.

I am seeing that I cannot be a part of the music that sets him free.

I like Darren Criss and Teenage Dream.

Soon we are singing at the top of our lungs. A pop song that's as substantial as a balloon, but lifts us in the same way when we sing it.

Why can't I take the music of the moment and see how long it can last?

There's a carafe of water on one of the trays, and that's all we need. We could have wine. We could have vodka. We could have Cherry Cokes. It would all be the same. We're drunk on candlelight, intoxicated by air. The food is our music. The walls are our warmth.

But one night I was just so wired from being with Tris that I had to stay up until I turned the evening into a song.

can learn a lot about people from the stories they tell, but you can also know them from the way they sing along, whether they like the windows up or down, if they live by the map or by the world, if they feel the pull of the ocean. She

Someone might say, I don't understand music; but most people experience music emotionally and would agree that music is an abstraction. You don't need to put music into words right away--you just listen. Cinema is a lot like music. It can be very abstract, but people have a yearning to make intellectual sense of it, to put it right into words.

the great all-embracing sound that rose from the dazzling earth, a layered music, dense but deeply flowing, that was clippered insects rubbing their legs together, bird-notes, grass-stems chaffing and fretting in the breeze.

Demasiadas notas, mi querido Mozart.

establishing fixed racial hierarchies, such as the German composer Richard Wagner in Judaism in Music (1850) and the French diplomat Arthur de Gobineau in Essay on the Inequality of the Human Races (1853–1855).

between the disfigurement and the muzzle, it's nearly impossible to catch what she's saying. Always, though, while tripping and stumbling to the music, she looks out into her audience and tells the story about her mother. Most people laugh and yell for her to lift her skirts, but every so often she'll spot someone weeping and swear they can understand her every word.

I cried for it all and wondered why so few songs were written about cats.

While I know I can't control it, what I ultimately hope to recall about my late-in-life father is not his nagging or his toes but, rather, his fingers, and the way he snaps them when listening to jazz. He's done it forever, signifying, much as a cat does by purring, that you may approach. That all is right with the world. "Man, oh man," he'll say in my memory, lifting his glass and taking us all in, "isn't this just fantastic

Dad said that the guy who can play guitar is going to be the life of the party. He's confusing life with death.

Occasionally I'd tune in to a music station, but I always preferred the sound of people talking, even if the subject was something I didn't care about

the music piped through the speakers was Christian—the new kind, which says that Jesus is awesome.

For you, anything." And as I did as I was instructed, I realized it was no different than playing a wind instrument. There were other musicians behind other curtains, and I swore I could hear them chiming in, the group of us forming God's own horn section. I'm not sure how long I lay there, blissed-out and farting.

Do you have a feel for the guitar? Do you have any idea what this little baby is capable of?" Without waiting for an answer, he climbed up into his chair and began playing "Light My Fire," adding, "This one is for Joan.

We passed a gun shop advertising a Blowout Sale. While listening to a country music station,we heard a talk/song narrated by our flag. I flew proudly at Iwo Jima and the blustering deserts of Kuwait, anywhere freedom is threatened, you will find me.

the man with one hand turned on an enormous radio and tuned it to a mastermix station where the songs are not sung so much as bleated. Bleated and repeated.

No matter where you go, you cannot escape the Bee Gees

To Roxy Music and EG's palpable relief, on 2 May 1972 the band were finally signed on as Island Records recording artists.