Music Quotes - Page 33

You are what you love not who loves you"- Fall Out Boy

My ears hear colors and my eyes see sounds.

Dancing ignite a blissful body, soul and spirit.

I wanna show that gospel, country, blues, rhythm and blues, jazz, rock ‘n’ roll are all just really one thing. Those are the American music and that is the American culture.

A demigod who reaches his apotheosis never mourns for himself.It is the business of his many adulators to mourn for him. He cannot feel sadness to be so great, leaving all the rest of us to champion in trembling misery.I, surprisingly, have very few words to offer, only because this year has taken so many sensational performers from us. There comes a time when the agony of loss is too great, when we feel it too much-- there is nothing left but painful astonishment. My grievances lie more with the Gods for taking him away from us than they do with his parting. I suppose I shall reach the stage of unconscionable sorrow at some point; now I am half confusion and half indignation. It should be impossible for people to be so deeply affected by someone whom we have never formally met, but this is existence: it is a bold measure we take, this stake in sufferance; we must all go through everything together, another proof of the mask of division. We all feel the same things, and Prince's passing is felt no less by anybody. Between him and Bowie, there is now a musical chasm in the world, a place where Gods once dwelt that is now abandoned, and in the Age of Pseudolotry, where what is nonsensical reigns over what is intelligent, we are likely never to see one of his kind again.Goodnight, sweet Prince. We shall go on trundling through this 'thing called life' with hearts defrauded of our greatest love.--On the death of Prince

I was hoping we could just listen to Jimmy Eat World and forget we ever grew up.

You couldn't not like someone who liked the guitar.

Songwriters write songs, but they really belong to the listener.

I don’t care if he hangs out with Skream/Benga or whoever,” he spat, “it’s just pure nonsense to ruin a hardcore genre with gay synths, chopped chipmunk vocals and cheesy poppy shit just so you can make a shitload of money and be an icon to a fanbase that consists of 13 year old wannabe dubheads and doesn’t know shit about music.

It's asking for trouble to listen to music alone.

The lower the class of the affair, the more likely the band will be invited to eat.

If somebody tells you there's a rule, break it.

Where were you? When everything was falling apart. All my days staying by the telephone. You never rang and all I needed was a call.

The living take a part of the dead with them, carrying them around in their minds, like a song that lingers after the music has been turned off.

Don’t try to present your art by making other people read or hear or see or touch it; make them feel it. Wear your art like your heart on your sleeve and keep it alive by making people feel a little better. Feel a little lighter. Create art in order for yourself to become yourselfand let your very existence be your song, your poem, your story.Let your very identity be your book.Let the way people say your name sound like the sweetest melody.

I see my life in terms of music.

Satan," he said, "couldn't undo anything God had done. She could at least try to make existence for His little toys less painful. She could see what He couldn't: To be alive was to be either bored or scared stiff. So she filled an apple with all sorts of ideas that might at least relieve the boredom, such as rules for games with cards and dice, and how to fuck, and recipes for beer and wine and whiskey, and pictures of different plants that were smokeable, and so on. And instructions on how to make music and sing and dance real crazy, real sexy. And how to spout blasphemy when they stubbed their toes."Satan had a serpent give Eve the apple. Eve took a bite and handed it to Adam. Hee took a bite, and then they fucked.

I made the valuable discovery that practicing wasn't a matter of time at all. It was a matter of intensity. Five minutes spent working consciously and hard at the elimination of an error, was worth five hours just playing away ignoring errors as if they hadn't happened.

Song of myselfNow I will do nothing but listen, To accrue what I hear into this song, to let sounds contribute toward it. I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat, gossip of flames, clack of sticks cooking my meals, I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice, I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or following, Sounds of the city and sounds out of the city, sounds of the day and night, Talkative young ones to those that like them, the loud laugh of work-people at their meals, The angry base of disjointed friendship, the faint tones of the sick, The judge with hands tight to the desk, his pallid lips pronouncing a death-sentence, The heave'e'yo of stevedores unlading ships by the wharves, the refrain of the anchor-lifters, The ring of alarm-bells, the cry of fire, the whirr of swift-streaking engines and hose-carts with premonitory tinkles and color'd lights, The steam-whistle, the solid roll of the train of approaching cars, The slow march play'd at the head of the association marching two and two, (They go to guard some corpse, the flag-tops are draped with black muslin.) I hear the violoncello, ('tis the young man's heart's complaint,) I hear the key'd cornet, it glides quickly in through my ears, It shakes mad-sweet pangs through my belly and breast. I hear the chorus, it is a grand opera, Ah this indeed is music--this suits me.

Creation of a pregnant imagination.

Oh, if I had had a friend at this moment, a friend in an attic room, dreaming by candlelight and with a violin lying ready at his hand! How I should have slipped up to him in his quiet hour, noiselessly climbing the winding stair to take him by surprise, and then with talk and music we should have held heavenly festival throughout the night!

Gloria watched the swollen white orb of a hot-air balloon rising over Navy Pier and knew she had to break it off with Oliver, for he was the type who would never enjoy hot-air balloons, Van Morrison songs, or mess, whether from orgasm or otherwise. But who was she to be dreaming about mess today?

Perhaps no line of Cohen’s better captures the essence of his vision. He is telling his listeners what prophetically inclined rabbis have been telling theirs for thousands of years, namely that the world is a place of suffering, that no celestial cataclysm could ever change that, but that there are things here on this earth - art, love, friendship, kindness, music, sex - that have the power to redeem us.

sometimes music isn't just a bunch of sounds and lyrics, sometimes it's more than that: a time machine...

You are a valuable instrument in the orchestration of your own world, and the overall harmony of the universe.

What you say about your situation matters a lot in life than what you do to it. It helps when you know what to say. When things are not going the way they are supposed to go, God does not keep quiet, He always say something. Do the same, change your situation with the words of your mouth.

He was able to sit in silence for long stretches without feeling a need to make small talk.

A gentleman is someone who knows how to play the banjo and doesn't.

Only Getting the A and Z with out the B through Y, leaves you SOL.

It seemed hardly feasible that anyone could tune an oil barrel, and even less credible that the barrel could make music like nothing else in the world. She thought those sounds were magic.

Music is a holy place, a cathedral so majestic that we can sense the magnificence of the universe, and also a hovel so simple and private that none of us can plumb its deepest secrets.

I had enough of a story churning in my head that combined all the elements of the day—the interview, the concert, the after-party’s private session—when he put his guitar away and asked me if I had ever experimented with homosexuality. Talk about unexpected segues. Letting him know that I had not and wasn’t about to, I successfully changed the subject by asking him to give me a condensed account about traveling to Mississippi in search of Bukka White.

All my ways of being are musical and mysterious.Yet I embrace you openly.Ripe with expectancy.

If the word of God cannot do it in your life then your Pastor must be wasting his time.

You,” I said, “are sweet music in a distant room.

Music did that to me, just like God was supposed to, because music seemed both magic and holy.

There is music the moment you start listening.

I mean, if Beethoven had been killed in a plane crash at twenty-two, the history of music would have been very different. As would the history of aviation, of course.

Now this might disturb you, but I find I'm OK by myself;and I don't need you or your benevolence to make sense.

Lose yourself in the music, not the fog

I dance daily to the music in my heart.

If music be the food of love, play on,Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,The appetite may sicken, and so die.

George got out his banjo after supper, and wanted to play it, but Harris objected: he said he had got a headache, and did not feel strong enough to stand it. George thought the music might do him good - said music often soothed the nerves and took away a headache; and he twanged two or three notes, just to show Harris what it was like.Harris said he would rather have the headache.

You haven’t prepared yourself for worship if you just practice musical art

for Pop, who sees the starsand Jude, who hears their music

Who is there that in logical words can express the effect music has on us? A kind of inarticulate unfathomable speech which leads us to the edge of the Infinite and lets us for moments gaze into that!

I've always felt that the performance of a raag resembles a novel - or at least the kind of novel I'm attempting to write. You know,' he continued, extemporizing as he went along, 'first you take one note and explore it for a while, then another to discover its possibilities, then perhaps you get to the dominant, and pause for a bit, and it's only gradually that the phrases begin to form and the tabla joins in with the beat...and then the more brilliant improvisations and diversions begin, with the main theme returning from time to time, and finally it all speeds up, and the excitement increases to a climax.

A composer is a guy who goes around forcing his will on unsuspecting air molecules, often with the assistance of unsuspecting musicians.

The secret is not to make your music louder. But to make the world quieter.

Man, didn't anybody ever tell you that art is propaganda? It doesn't matter whether you think it should be or it shouldn't be, it just is, and motherfucker, like or not, you're sitting on a funky Magna Carta.

It was some of Solomon’s favorite music because it was dense and intellectually complicated and he wasn’t expected to dance to it.

There were no ideas in music, only touch and instinct and sometimes grace—the mechanical tools—and that among those who were given the tools, only a few, a scant few, would be able to tell you something true.

Put some muscle into it! Channel your inner Trent Reznor!

I was captured by music at a really early age. I was really captured by it. Everything about it. It was my mother… It was my father… It was my play thing. It was my toy. It was the best thing in my life.

You cannot have a dream and expect someone else's faith to make it a reality for you. Habakuk 2:4

There is no such thing as happy music.

This will be our reply to violence:to make music more intensely,more beautifully,more devotedly than ever before.

I was wasting my life, always thinking about myself.

Revive your soul daily to the dance of soothing music.

If I cannot fly, let me sing.