Quotes About Lilt

Mexican band always makes. Whatever they play, it all sounds the same. They always sing the same song, and it always has nice open vowels and a drawn out sugary lilt, and the guy who sings it always strums on a guitar and has a lot to say about amor, mi corazón, a lady who is "linda" but very hard to convince, and he always has too long and too oily hair

For me a poem has to sing out of itself and the lilt of it carries the magic.

Singer and tailor am I– Doubled the joys that I know– Proud of my lilt to the sky, Proud of the house that I sew– Over and under, so weave I my music–so weave I the house that I sew.

Even the banana plantations, the big, hardy trees on the flanks of Mount St. Andrew, seemed to lilt and acquiesce in the heat.

Geometry is moribund. I want a lilt and joy to art.

The Gay News critic wrote that I 'carried the lilt of the Irish without the brogue'.

The accent was of so weird a lilt that at first Steerpike could not recognize more than one sentence in three, but he had quickly attuned himself to the original cadence and as the words fell into place Steerpike realized that he was staring at a poet.

I'm a big fan of the Irish accent. After a couple of drinks, I start to get a bit of an Irish lilt, too.

Ty: Just words I like. If I say them to myself, it makes my mind - quieter. Does it bother you? Kit: No. I was just curious what words you liked. Ty: It's not the meaning, just the sound. Glass, twin, apple, whisper, stars, crystal, shadow, lilt. Kit: Whisper would be one of mine, too. Cloud, secret, highway, hurricane, mirror, castle, thorns. Ty: Blackthorns.

He heard a woman call out for her children in the flat accent that said States to him, East Coast, North. And seemed so out of place here. Did his voice have that same slightly-out-of-tune sound to it? Here voices should lilt and flow and have old music under each word.

Her English had an elegant European lilt, what I thought was a French accent—?vowels in the front of her mouth, consonants brushed with feathers.

Sounds of the Winter Walt Whitman - 1819-1892 Sounds of the winter too, Sunshine upon the mountains—many a distant strain From cheery railroad train—from nearer field, barn, house The whispering air—even the mute crops, garner'd apples, corn, Children's and women's tones—rhythm of many a farmer and of flail, And old man's garrulous lips among the rest, Think not we give out yet, Forth from these snowy hairs we keep up yet the lilt.

Seskin has the gift of song...his voice has a natural lilt that can't be learned. The combination of musicianship and repertoire make for a rich and satisfying musical experience.