Quotes About Music

If you want to know of love, look to a trouper's hands as he makes his music. A trouper knows. I

Lord do I dislike poetry, how can anyone remember words that aren't put to music".

For a moment my hands stopped aching from the cold, and instead longed for the familiar feel of music running through them.

She shook her head vigorously, refusing to look at me as tears started to spill down her cheeks. "It's not fine. I should have known. You hold it like it's your baby. If anyone in my life had ever looked at me the way you look at that lute, I'd …

But how quickly you can finger notes is the smallest part of music. The real key is timing.

Luckily, languages are like musical instruments: the more you know, the easier it is to pick up new ones.

This is why there are so few true musicians. A lot of folks can sing or saw out a tune on a fiddle. A music box can play a song flawlessly, again and again. But knowing the notes isn't enough. You have to know how to play them. Speed comes with time and practice, but timing you are born with. You have it or you don't.

Songs choose their hour and their own season. When your tune's tin, there is a reason. The tone of a tune is your heart's mettle, and there's no clear water from a muddy well. All you can do is let the silt settle, or you'll sound sour as a broken bell." I

I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep. You may have heard of me.

in my opinion if you have a secret compartment in your lute case and don't use it to hide things, there is something terribly, terribly wrong with you.

El tacto de las cuerdas me producía extrañeza; mis dedos y las cuerdas eran como dos amigos que se reencuentran y que no recuerdan qué tienen en común. Toqué flojo y despacio, sin lanzar las notas más allá del círculo de luz de la hoguera. Mis dedos y las cuerdas mantenían una cuidadosa conversación, como si su danza describiera el guión de un enamoramiento.

stiffen. Our eyes dim. Skin roughens and our beauty fades. The only exception is the voice. Properly cared for, a voice does nothing but grow sweeter with age and constant use. His was like a sweet honey wine. He finished his song to hearty applause, and after a moment the lights came back up and the room swelled with conversation.

group, Kvothe emerged from the kitchen and returned to the

if you have a secret compartment in your lute case and don't use it to hide things, there is something terribly, terribly wrong with you.

Un poeta es un músico que no sabe cantar. Las palabras tienen que encontrar la mente de un hombre si pretenden llegar a su corazón, y la mente de algunos hombres es lamentablemente pequeña. La música llega al corazón por pequeña o acérrima que sea la mente de quien la escucha.

Remember this, son, if you forget everything else. A poet is a musician who can't sing. Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woeful small targets. Music touches their hearts directly no matter how small or stubborn the mind of the man who listens." My

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

Meus pais dançaram juntos, mamãe com a cabeça no peito dele. Ambos tinham os olhos fechados. Pareciam perfeitamente felizes. Quem consegue encontrar alguém assim, alguém a quem abraçar e com quem fechar os olhos para o mundo, é uma pessoa de sorte. Mesmo que dure apenas um minuto, ou um dia. A imagem deles balançando suavemente ao som da música é como visualizo mentalmente o amor, mesmo decorridos tantos anos.

If you can find someone like that, someone who you can hold and close your eyes to the world with, then you're lucky. Even if it only lasts for a minute or a day. The image of them gently swaying to the music is how I picture love in my mind even after all these years.

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. After

La madera era color café oscuro, o de tierra recién removida. La curva de la caja era perfecta, como las caderas de una mujer. Era eco sordo y rasgueo cantarín. Mi laúd. Mi alma tangible.

You see, a laurel needs to grow. I can't do much about that. But I can keep the rain off a few musicians heads, can't I?" A sly smile wound it's way onto his face. "So God will tend the laurels and keep them wet. And I will tend the players and keep them dry. And wiser minds than mine will decide when to bring the two together." -Count Threpe

Als Schubert so alt war wie ich, da war er schon drei Jahre tot.

Biliyor musunuz, güzel bir sesin kendisi bir fikirdir benim kan?mca, sahibi olan kad?n istediÄŸi kadar budala olsun; müziÄŸin korkunç yan? da bu.