Quotes About Trumpet

He loved the twilight that surrounds The border-land of old romance; Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance, And banner waves, and trumpet sounds, And ladies ride with hawk on wrist, And mighty warriors sweep along, Magnified by the purple mist, The dusk of centuries and of song.

The little princess, like an old war horse that hears the trumpet, unconsciously and quite forgetting her condition, prepared for the familiar gallop of coquetry, without any ulterior motive or any struggle, but with naive and lighthearted gaiety.

There are different sorts of treachery, but betrayal is betrayal wherever you find it. She burnt a lot more than the letters that night in the backyard. I don't think she knew. In her head she was still queen, but not my queen any more, not the White Queen any more. Walls protect and walls limit. It is in the nature of walls that they should fall. That walls should fall is the consequence of blowing your own trumpet.

With the pride of the artist you must blow against the walls of every power that exists the small trumpet of your defiance.

I was not angry since I came to France Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald; Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill: If they will fight with us, bid them come down, Or void the field; they do offend our sight: If they'll do neither, we will come to them, And make them skirr away, as swift as stones Enforced from the old Assyrian slings: Besides, we'll cut the throats of those we have, And not a man of them that we shall take Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.

Koniec i bomba, a kto czyta? ten tr?ba!

With my trumpet voice, I love gritty, plunger, growly sounds. But vocally, I love Anita O'Day - a raspier but definitely softer sound. Part of the fun has been finding vehicles or writing for both of those sounds.

I hate to say it, but Christmas as a kid was always a moneymaking venture for me. I played trumpet, and a friend of mine who played trombone and a guy who played tuba, every Christmas we'd go out for three or four days beforehand and play Christmas carols on our horns.

I still play jazz, and I've always got that trumpet very handy, but I'm coming to feel the classical venues are where my main focus is, in the realm of symphonic pops.

I studied with Seymour Rosenfeld, who was first trumpeter of the Philadelphia Orchestra.

Either he was suffering a terrible case of gas or he had a pint-size child practicing the trumpet in his back pocket.

We decided to do some of Merle's things with modern instrumentation. We used a flute, a bass clarinet, a trumpet, a clarinet, drums, a guitar, vibes and a piano.

When a trumpet sounds in a city, do not the people tremble? When disaster comes to a city, has not the LORD caused it? (Amos 3:6)

Make sure it is God's trumpet you are blowing- if it is only yours it won't wake the dead, it will simply disturb the neighbours.

The bass line is the anchor for me. I started with the bass, and either doubled that and then added the harmonies, or sometimes added my own harmonies that I've always wanted to sing on the song. And then it just went on from there - singing violin parts and trumpet parts and just trying to emulate the sounds of the instruments.

I have a classical music background. I studied violin and trumpet.

We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.

Legend says Gabriel's trumpet will sound the last judgment. I do the same sort of thing with my rifle.

So I had a couple of years of playing trumpet. I really enjoyed it, but it was not the kind of instrument you could whip out at a party. Let's face it.

Behold, I tell you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed—in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet [shofar]. For the trumpet [shofar] will sound, and the dead will be raised. (1 CORINTHIANS 15:51–52)

I consider the trumpet a good investment, although our neighbor, Miss Annie, does not. If she beats on my shutters again, I'll pour water on her.

Until mankind heeds the message on the Hebrew trumpet blown, and the faith of the whole world's people is the faith that is our own.

A trumpet blows outside. Her hand goes to her cheek, swipes away tears. "Go," she whispers. "Please.

The day is declining through the white afternoon to the long blue spring evening. He drives past a corner where someone is practicing on a trumpet