Quotes About Music

Playing a musical instrument gives much pleasure, but more so to the musician.

A Round of fiddles playing Bach.

River that must turn full after I stop dying Song, my song, raise grief to music Light as my loves' thought, the few sick So sick of wrangling: thus weeping, Sounds of light, stay in her keeping And my son's face - this much for honor.

May is, Airs wreathe (times) : and they mirror: plus Silence supports my pretension . . the parts Ascend a tone, repeating, (tin ears) thus (Listen) move past Jesus ratted in starch; My contention . . that the slight disregards My costs: Recorders: Fa - as what wind blew Tossed coins in herrings heads, what journey thru Mi et Mi Fa . . tota Musica, dearth Such as voice courting voice has such value Labor light lights in air, in earth, on earth

You can take the girl out of the 80s, but you can't take the 80s out of the girl.

The soprano studies for seven years in order to be able to open her mouth and make loud sounds for three hours on end.

Sometimes I like to play the soundtracks to famous musicals so we can all sing along. South Pacific is one of my favorites. Our neighbors must hate us.

I'm hopefully touring with Colin Baker next year in Perfect Strangers. I have performed with Sylvia Simms in poetry and music evenings. I would love to do those for the rest of my career - they are so fun and witty.

I voice my opinions. I speak up for myself. I sing the praises of love and joy. My words are the music of life. I choose the thoughts that express beauty and gratitude. I proclaim my oneness with all of life. I love and appreciate my beautiful voice!

Gamache enjoyed going to churches for their music and the beauty of the language and the stillness. But he felt closer to God in his Volvo.

One must always have a song in the heart." "And an éclair in the hand,

like a living chant. Each of us individual notes. On our own, nothing. But together? Divine. We don't just sing, we are the song.

the clatter of pots and pans and dishes. To others it was a cacophony. To Anton it was a symphony.

In trying to capture the beautiful mystery, this monk had invented written music. Not yet notes, what he'd written became known as neumes.

carried on round pianos

I'm not sure if you realize that mathematics isn't linear. It's a curve. And in the brightest, most nimble minds, it arcs around to meet philosophy, music, art." She laced her fingers together. "They're intertwined. If you listen to Bach, it's as much a work of math as music.

He ran, I guess. Probably chased by a gang of music lovers.

There was no written record of the earliest chants. They were so old, more than a millenium, that they predated written music.

That night, after Vespers, this nameless monk sat by precious candle-light, staring at the psalms written so carefully on the vellum. Then he dipped his quill in ink and drew the very first musical note.

Gregorian chant was the father of western music. But it was eventually killed by its ungrateful children. Buried. Lost and forgotten.

Gamache sighed to himself. Of all the literally divine music here, he had to have "Camptown Races" sung by a rooster stuck in his head.

Tchaikovsky's violin concerto in D Major.

I am a pop widow.

Dance of the Sugar Plum Bikey. Yes, that's got a nice ring to it.