Quotes About Music

When the first record came out, I'd go down to radio stations pretty much every day to get the record played, and I would walk in and they'd tell us how much they loved the record, but they weren't sure how much they could play it because they were already playing a girl. Or the program director would slap his leg and say, "Why don't you sit down over here and we'll see if we can get that record played."

Ironically, for a few million people in the Far East, I did become an English teacher through my music.

Without music, life is a journey through a desert.

Music could ache and hurt, that beautiful music was a place a suffering man could hide.

Without music and dance, life is a journey through a desert.

I could bear the memory, but I could not bear the music that made the memory such a killing thing.

My older brother Mike is an excellent trumpet player. By the time he was 12, he was playing around Kansas City in classical situations. He was already an amazing talent.

If she know how strongly he felt, she'd have run out the door. He wasn't used to the possessive, or the savage joy she brought to his heart. It ate at his control, so he turned his attention to the music. He understood music.

She opened her eyes and met his. The impact was so strong he was amazed that his fingers continued playing without pause.

Moonlight streamed in, sending loving beams over his face. He closed his eyes and basked in it, and I could tell it was calling to him, even though the moon was not full. She didn't speak to me, but Samuel had once described her song to me in the words of a poet. The expression of bliss on his face while he listened to her music made him beautiful.

This world has need of song and sword.

Under the mellowing influence of good food and good music, Adam relaxed, and I discovered that underneath that overbearing, hot-tempered Alpha disguise he usually wore was a charming, overbearing, hot-tempered man. He seemed to enjoy finding out that I was as stubborn and disrespectful of authority as he'd always suspected.

Words are partly thoughts, but mostly they're music, deep down. Thinking itself is, perhaps, orchestral, the mind conducting the world. Conducting it, constructing it.

It's WA today, Minna," called Orson from across the room, Orson's name for Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Orson played second violin with a sloppy serenity, rolling his eyes and sticking out his tongue, his bowing long and sweeping and beautiful even when out of tune. "If you must make a mistake," he had quoted, "make it a big one." Was it Heifetz who had said it? Perlman? Zukerman maybe?

Tune, tune," said Porch briskly. He turned to Orson. "And is there a word for today?" Orson was the word person, spilling words out as if they were notes on a staff. "Rebarbative," said Orson promptly. "Causing annoyance or irritation. Mozart's rebarbative music causes me to want to throw up." Porch sighed. Orson preferred Schubert.

You are the heart of this family," she said, "with your songs.

I'm used to the traffic and the way it washes through my mind, swirling with changing rhythms. It is a moving, liquid music, smooth and soothing; a song of haunting sounds and hooting woven from the speed and rushings of the city. The traffic is a song which plays my feelings as though they were a string instrument of distant drum. It erases all silences within me.

I sacrifice everything to the music of the words.

Thus his music has gone, as he says, 'from being about place to becoming place.'55 In doing so, it has fulfilled his wish in the semantic meaning of enchantment, 'to be in a song': 'I no longer want to be outside the music, listening to it as an object apart. I want to inhabit the music, to be fully present and listening …'56

I think of human singing, and note that angels are not said to sing. The gift of singing, of making music, and of composing songs may well be one of the greatest marks in man of the creator. Any serious listener of music must recognize the laments and the infinite sorrow expressed in much of our music. Do not our very musical notes ring with the lament of a broken man?

Things will go better for you during periods when you listen to Thin Lizzy at least once a week.

So they would't suffer too much from hunger, they slept and rested in bed for as long as they could. They lost all notion of time, and if Brossier hadn't come back they would never have left that room, not even the bed, where they listened to music and little by little drifted off. The last thing they saw from the outside world were the snowflakes falling all day on the sill of the open window.

You do not know the first note of the music that moves me.

Music is a proud, temperamental mistress. Give her the time and attention she deserves, and she is yours. Slight her and there will come a day when you call and she will not answer. So I began sleeping less to give her the time she needed.