Quotes About Music

Blues is easy to play, but hard to feel

Although your world wonders me, with your majestic and superior cackling hen Your people I do not understand, so to you I shall put an end And you'll never hear surf music again

So down and down and down and down And down and down we go Hurry my darling we mustn't be late For the show Neptune champion games to an aqua World so very dear Right this way smiles a mermaid I can hear Atlantis full of cheer.

Stay groovy/To keep the axis turning so that love follows music as the night the day/You hypnotize people to where they go right back to their natural state,like in childhood when you get natural highs.And when they come down off,they see clearer,feel different things.It's all spiritual/The idea is to get your own self together/What you do is your religion ?Starting at Zero?

Oh, love is nice if it's understood, It's even nicer when you're feeling good. You got me flipping like a flag on a pole, Come on, sugar, let the good times roll.

Hell to Heaven Heaven to Hell Please send Devil or Angel To love me now. To Hell with Heaven To Heaven with Hell. Unless you send me somebody to love...the truth of you both I'm gonna tell.

Music is a safe kind of high

Life was just a tire swing. 'Jambalaya' was the only song I could sing. Blackberry pickin', eatin' fried chicken, And I never knew a thing about pain. Life was just a tire swing.

I come from the ocean with songs of the sea No lesson for learning, just play upon me Now go make your music in lands near and far Orion protects you wherever you are

This is a present from a small distant world, a token of our sounds, our science, our images, our music, our thoughts, and our feelings. We are attempting to survive our time so we may live into yours. We hope someday, having solved the problems we face, to join a community of galactic civilizations. This record represents our hope and our determination, and our good will in a vast and awesome universe.

Janis Joplin is singing with Big Brother in the Panhandle and almost everybody is high and it is a pretty nice Sunday afternoon.

I had believed in the logic of popular songs. I had looked for the silver lining. I had walked on through the storm.

Sometimes I get lonesome for a storm. A full-blown storm where everything changes. The sky goes through four days in an hour, the trees wail, little animals skitter in the mud and everything gets dark and goes completely wild. But it's really God—playing music in his favorite cathedral in heaven—shattering stained glass—playing a gigantic organ—thundering on the keys—perfect harmony—perfect joy.

sometimes I get lonesome for a storm, a full blown storm where everything changes. the sky goes through four days in an hour, the trees wail, little animal scatter in the mud and everything gets dark and goes completely wild. but it's really God- playing music in his favourite cathedral in heaven- shattering stained glass- playing a gigantic organ- thundering on the keys- perfect harmony- perfect joy .

Nicholas went to choral evensong on the Sunday, and could have wept. They sang part of a Tallis motet and he thought, If the time comes when nobody can hear this sound anymore, it will be the end.

There's also a lot of random stuff about poetry, flowers and lute music, plus kissing and cuddling (lots of this), wearing similar outfits, talking incessantly about the current object of devotion, and generally losing one's faculties.

I put on the radio and sang to myself as I worked, carefully placing the chocolates in pyramids. The magic mountain opens to reveal a bewildering array, half-glimpsed, of riches; multicolored piles of sugar crystals, glacé fruits, and sweets that glitter like gems.

Someone real, I hear myself saying. Someone who never has to pretend, and who I never have to pretend around. Someone who's smart, but knows how to laugh at himself. Someone who would listen to a symphony and start to cry, because he understands music can be too big for words. Someone who knows me better than I know myself. Someone I want to talk to first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Someone I feel like I've known my whole life, even if I haven't.

I think you're the only person who gets me. When I'm with you, the world doesn't feel like a problem I can't figure out. Please come to the dance, because you're my music.

The music we listen to may not define who we are. But it's a damn good start.

If his voice hasn't been the melody of my life, it's been the bass line, so subtle you don't notice it until it's missing.

This was the reason there was music, he realized. There were some feelings that didn't have words big enough to describe them.

I've never been in love, but I've always imagined it--weirdly--like some sort of OxiClean commercial. The TV host shows a scene from an ordinary day, and then takes a big old sponge soaked in love and swipes away the stains. Suddenly that same scene is missing all the mistakes, all the loneliness. The colors are like jewels, ten times richer than they were before. The music is louder and clearer. Love, the host will say, makes life a little brighter.

For better or for worse, music is the language of memory. It is also the language of love.