Quotes About Lullaby

IL TUONO E nella notte nera come il nulla, a un tratto, col fragor d'arduo dirupo che frana, il tuono rimbombò di schianto: rimbombò, rimbalzò, rotolò cupo, e tacque, e poi rimareggiò rinfranto, e poi vanì. Soave allora un canto s'udì di madre, e il moto di una culla.

I drifted into a summer-nap under the hot shade of July, serenaded by a cicadae lullaby, to drowsy-warm dreams of distant thunder.

hearing C-flat against an F-minor humming the lullaby to the rhythm of you reading that silly novel you try to complete each night I rest in your rest while the day snuggles in and sings me to sleep 'After the Day

It's called a culling song. In some ancient cultures, they sand it to children during famines or droughts, anytime the tribe had outgrown its land. It was sung to warriors injured in accidents or the very old or anyone dying. It was used to end misery and pain. It's a lullaby

It's called a culling song. In some ancient culture, they sang it to children during famines or droughts, anytime the tribe had outgrown its land. It was sung to warriors injured in accidents or the very old or anyone dying. It was used to end misery and pain. It's a lullaby.

It's called a culling song. In some ancient cultures, they sang it to children during famines or droughts, anytime the tribe had outgrown its land. It was sung to warriors injured in accidents or the very old or anyone dying. It was used to end misery and pain. It's a lullaby.

Rock-a-bye-baby on the tree top,When the wind blows the cradle will rock,When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,And down will come baby, cradle and all.

Sing lullabie, as women do,Wherewith they bring their babes to rest;And lullabie can I sing to,As womanly as can the best.

Ofelia could still hear Mercedes crying while the blood of the dying girl in her arms was dripping down into the well. She recognized the lullaby Mercedes hummed. And then... Ofelia smiled - oh, so faintly - and then could hear no more. And Mercedes bent over the dead girl and sobbed until the dark hard was wet with her tears.

Ofelia could still hear Mercedes crying while the blood of the dying girl in her arms was dripping down into the well. She recognized the lullaby Mercedes hummed. And then... Ofelia smiled - oh, so faintly - and then could hear no more. And Mercedes bent over the dead girl and sobbed until the dark hair was wet with her tears.

When sleep forsook my open eye, Who was it sung sweet lullaby, And rock'd me that I should not cry? My Mother.

When I was still a piccanin she tutuzela'd me on her back, a back-to-front kangaroo. Snug in the hollow of her back, I felt her humming and singing seep into me." (from "Blood Orange: A Novel" by Troy Blacklaws)

Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

She slowly began to hum her personal favorite,not even realizing when instinctively she began to sing the lyrics:hush,little baby,don't say a word.If that mockingbird don't sing,papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring.If that diamond ring don't Do me a favor.Pretend you're that mockingbird and shut up one angry,bloodshot eye glared at her. I was just trying to help Help what? bring down the walls of the hut with your screeching?

the breeze would draw a violin bow across the branches of a tree and I would again hear her lullaby. I would listen to the chime of coins being counted, and I would imagine her laughter. Her voice was caught in the shell of my ear, as if it were the ocean.

Ragtime was my lullaby.

At night, every living thing competes for a chance to be heard. The crickets and frogs call out. Sometimes, there's the soft who-whoo of an owl lost amid the pines. Even the dogs won't rest until they've howled at the moon. But the crickets always win, long after the frogs stop croaking and the owl has found its way home. Long after the dogs have lain down losing the battle against sleep, the crickets keep going as though they know their song is our lullaby.

Where long ago a giant battle was; And, from the turf, a lullaby doth pass In every place where infant Orpheus slept.

Perhaps we are given a mom that we might take into death the memory of a lullaby.

You'd be surprised." Charlie said."You go to bed one night singing her a lullaby, and she wakes up listening to Limp Bizkit.""What the hell is Limp Bizkit?

Every sleepy boy and girl in every bed around the world can hear the stars up in the sky whispering a lullaby.

Copacii par zane durdulii in camasi albe de noapte, care se intind somnoroase si casca la luna...

Music is a lullaby of consciousness, we dance to death.

The dark side of personality It sounds a terrible lullaby of the dark side of the person, the music that lulls good in you is a terrible clown killer from horror films, the blind zone of your conscience, he with a bunch of weapons, each of which represents irony and sarcasm, shells of accumulated angry laughter of awareness. Your laugh is his laugh. In his smile are several thousand teeth and all of them are poisonous, corroding the psyche by the philosophy of personal experience.