Quotes About Music

Disco is the first technology music. And what I mean is that 'disco' music is named after discs, because when technology grew to where they didn't need a band in the clubs, the DJ played it on a disc.

You know, I do music. If you look under the hood of the industry I'm in, it's all based on technology. From radio to phonographs to CDs, it's all technology. Microphones, reel-to-reels, cameras, editing, chips, it's all technology.

If Apple's a technology company in the music industry, why can't somebody in the music industry make technology?

Those who decide to use leisure as a means of mental development, who love good music, good books, good pictures, good company, good conversation, are the happiest people in the world.

Applaus," zei hij, "wat een vreselijke manier om een kunstenaar te belonen. Hij heeft zich ingespannen de mooiste muziek te zingen of te spelen en het brengt zijn publiek tot niets anders dan het maken van het eentonigste lawaai dat er bestaat.

Melody had heard some of these people from the Ukraine singing. He hadn't understood one word. Yet he didn't have to know the words to understand what they were wailing about. Words didn't count when the music had a tongue. The field hands of the sloping red-hill country in Kentucky sang that same tongue.

His only indulgence was the stereo system: Mitsubishi receiver and CD player, Boston Acoustic speakers.

Piping down the valleys wild,Piping songs of pleasant glee,On a cloud I saw a child,And he laughing said to me:"Pipe a song about a Lamb."So I piped with merry cheer;"Piper, pipe that song again."So I piped; he wept to hear.

Down the mountain wallsFrom where Pan's cavern isIntolerable music falls.Foul goat-head, brutal arm appear,Belly, shoulder, bum,Flash fishlike; nymphs and satyrsCopulate in the foam.

Labor is blossoming or dancing whereThe body is not bruised to pleasure soul,Nor beauty born out of its own despair,Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.O chestnut tree, great-rooted blossomer,Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,How can we know the dancer from the dance?

When I play on my fiddle in Dooney,Folk dance like a wave of the sea.

That is no country for old men. The youngIn one another's arms, birds in the trees—Those dying generations—at their song,The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer longWhatever is begotten, born, and dies.Caught in that sensual music all neglectMonuments of unaging intellect.

O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance?

But he heard high up in the air A piper piping away, And never was piping so sad, And never was piping so gay.

In summer, the song sings itself.

If aught of oaten stop or pastoral songMay hope, O pensive Eve, to soothe thine ear.

Music has charms to soothe the savage breast To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Music hath charm to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Music has charms to soothe a savage breast,To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.N.B. This quote is commonly misquoted as savage beast.

Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds;And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleas'dWith melting airs or martial, brisk, or grave:Some chord in unison with what we hearIs touch'd within us, and the heart replies.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds: And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.