Quotes About Tune

It is impossible to experience one's death objectively and still carry a tune.

Just as political correctness finds its most avid supporters on today's university campuses, the intellectuals of earlier times generally went along with the religious establishment. He who pays the piper calls the tune.

True music begins when the song of your soul finds its tune and the emotions of your heart find their voices.

Father says that I'm one little instrument in the great Orchestra of Life, and that I must see to it that I'm always in tune, and don't drag or hit false notes

Oh, but it wouldn't be a useless walk, sir. Father said nothing was useless that helped to keep us in tune, you know. In tune! I mean, you looked as father used to look sometimes, when he felt out of tune. And he always said there was nothing like a walk to put him back again. I—I was feeling a little out of tune myself to-day, and I thought, by the way you looked, that you were, too. So I asked you to go to walk.

A shame that these images had become iconic, a tune we were all tired of humming.

All night have the roses heardThe flute, violin, bassoon;All night has the casement jessamine stirr'dTo the dancers dancing in tune;Till a silence fell with the waking bird,And a hush with the setting moon.

she was crooning to herself: "Oh, my back and oh, my bones ! Oh, my back and oh, my bones!

Because sometimes there's more worth in silence than noise. Sometimes everything you need to know is contained in that small quiet space. Sometimes we get so caught up in distraction and noise and seeking other people's approval we forget the quiet seed of truth that lives in our hearts. But just because we fail to tune in to it, doesn't mean it's not there.

It is the plight of man. And while the blame lies partly on the river " Lotus gestures towards the dark waters before us "most of the blame lies on man's inclination to tune into the noise that blares all around him instead of the beautiful silence that lies deep within.

I'm really into, like, electric pop music and dubstep, things like that.

I love a good, poppy chorus.

Pop just means popular - it can be any genre, and if it becomes popular, then it's pop music.

I still want to make a pop record. I want to make a more sonically current pop record. I maybe want to make people move a little bit more.

the radio aches a little tune that tells the story of what the night is thinking. it's thinking of love. it's thinking of stabbing us to death and leaving our bodies in a dumpster. that's a nice touch, stains in the night, whiskey and kisses for everyone.

The radio aches a little tune that tells the story of what the night is thinking. It's thinking of love.

The Rat hummed a tune, and the Mole recollected that animal-etiquette forbade any sort of comment on the sudden disappearance of one's friends at any moment, for any reason or no reason whatever.

God is a sound frequency, and we can all tune in if we just listen. Some find The Rhythm through different melodies, but it's all music.

No sooner had the words passed his lips than he was taken up and whisked into the moat with prodigious force; and the fairies came crowding round about him with great anger, screeching and screaming and roaring out, "Who spoiled our tune? Who spoiled our tune?"

Abundance is not something we acquire. It is something we tune into. —WAYNE DYER

Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chilliest land And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.

Hope' is the thing with feathers — That perches in the soul — And sings the tune without the words — And never stops — at all — And sweetest — in the Gale — is heard — And sore must be the storm — That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm — I've heard it in the chillest land — And on the strangest Sea — Yet — never — in Extremity, It asked a crumb — of me.

Hope" is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I've heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without words and never stops at all.