Quotes About Rhythm

Inner thought: it is easier to make rhymes on a train; the lines come out the right length because the wheel clicks never miss their count. Idea: if we were a poet we would spend all our time on trains.

I would define... the Poetry of words as The Rhythmical Creation of Beauty.

Rain utters poetry in drops, splats, and puddles.

Skipping is just a dancing walk, or if you prefer, a walking dance.

The pleasure we obtain from music comes from counting, but counting unconsciously. Music is nothing but unconscious arithmetic.

a clock to set their hearts to.

Food is music to the body, music is food to the heart.

A French writer once said that prose is walking, poetry is dancing. That's a fine metaphor for the pleasurable intensification of emotion, language, and rhythm that is at the heart of poetry.

Wonder made the old chicka-chicka-boom beat so potent it sounded like a syncopated version of Judgment Day.

When life vibrates at a harmonious frequency there is no need to seek something better. It's only when the rhythm of life is disrupted that people pay attention.

La vida transcurre a velocidades y ritmos disímiles. Por largos periodos avanza con lentitud y de súbito, en lapsos cortísimos, suceden eventos frenéticos y radicales que la trastornan hasta dejarla irreconocible. Cómo y por qué entra uno a esos ríos caóticos y furiosos es un misterio. Nos quejamos de la grisura de la cotidianeidad, pero con frecuencia es nuestra tabla de salvación. Una existencia sin orden termina por apabullarnos.

Movement provides life's questions and life's answers simultaneously.

When Heraclitus said that everything passes steadily along, he was not inciting us to make the best of the moment, an idea unseemly to his placid mind, but to pay attention to the pace of things. Each has its own rhythm: the nap of a dog, the procession of the equinoxes, the dances of Lydia, the majestically slow beat of the drums at Dodona, the swift runners at Olympia.

The whole thing starts with a single knot and needles. A word and pen. Tie a loop in nothing. Look at it. Cast on, repeat the procedure till you have a line that you can work with. It's a pattern made of relation alone, my patience, my rhythm, till empty bights create a fabric that can be worn, if you're lucky and practised. It's never too late to pick up dropped stitches... (from "How to Knit a Poem")

One had to breathe consciously and deliberately, which, though disconcerting at first, induced after a time an almost ecstatic tranquility of mind. The whole body moved in a single rhythm of breathing, walking, and thinking, the lungs, no longer discrete and automatic, were disciplined to harmony with mind and limb.

All of life is attachment and loss, an unavoidable, rhythmic exchange.

The ree the ra the ree the ra the roo. Lord, I mustn't lilt here.

If that is rhythm, said Lynch, let me hear what you call beauty: and, please remember, though I did eat a cake of cowdung once, that I admire only beauty.

His prayer, addressed neither to God nor saint, began with a shiver, as the chilly morning breeze crept through the chink of the carriage door to his feet, and ended in a trail of foolish words which he made to fit the insistent rhythm of the train; and silently, at intervals of four seconds, the telegraph-poles held the galloping notes of the music between punctual bars.

935--If that is rhythm, said Lynch, let me hear what you call beauty: and, please remember, though I did eat a cake of cowdung once, that I admire only beauty.

He turned back the way he had come, the rhythm of the engine pounding in his ears. He began to doubt the reality of what memory told him. He halted under a tree and allowed the rhythm to die away. He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor her voice touch his ear. He waited for some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt that he was alone.

Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. A catalectic tetrameter of iambs march ing.

Penelope Balangie's tom-toms. For a minute or two I thought my magic twanger was shifting into overdrive.

He slowed his pace as he came