Music Quotes - Page 39

I am in the world only for the purpose of composing.

In Jazz, like in America, the group works together toward a common cause with lots of room left for each individual to shine.

Grace abounds in contemporary movies, books, novels, films and music. If God is not in the whirlwind, He may be in a Woody Allen film, or a Bruce Springsteen concert. Most people understand imagery and symbol better than doctrine and dogma. Images touch hearts and awaken imaginations. One theologian suggested that Springsteen's 'Tunnel of Love' album, in which he symbolically sings of sin, death, despair and redemption, is more important for Catholics than the Pope's last visit when he spoke of morality only in doctrinal propositions.

I believe music is a place everyone of us can go to. I don’t care who you are, where you were born, what you do with your life. Everyone can come here in music and be equal.

As much as I would really like to have saved myself heartache, embarrassment or gossip, I also know that my biggest mistakes have turned into my best lessons. And sometimes my greatest career triumphs. If my life had been turbulence-free, maybe my music would be beige, maybe the stadiums wouldn’t be full and the mantle would be a little more empty.

Now whenever I left class to go to the boys' room, I worried that I would end up on the blue tiled floor in a puddle of piss and blood.

You make me sick. Because I adore you so..."~Space Dementia

You don't have to feel grateful in order to be grateful.

She didn't mind the sacrifice. It seemed enough for a life, to give yourself to music the way nuns give themselves to God. To vow. To surrender. Only music, after all, made life bearable. Only with music did she feel--what was it? Free? Happy? No, it was something else. Awake.

Every song may be someone's personal implement of torture.

I've been looking so long at these pictures of youThat I almost believe that they're real I've been living so long with my pictures of youThat I almost believe that the pictures are All I can feelRemembering You standing quiet in the rain As I ran to your heart to be near And we kissed as the sky fell inHolding you close How I always held close in your fearRemembering You running soft through the night You were bigger and brighter and wider than snowAnd screamed at the make-believe Screamed at the skyAnd you finally found all your courage To let it all goRemembering You fallen into my arms Crying for the death of your heart You were stone whiteSo delicate Lost in the cold You were always so lost in the darkRemembering You how you used to be Slow drowned You were angelsSo much more than everything Hold for the last time then slip away quietly Open my eyes But I never see anythingIf only I'd thought of the right words I could have held on to your heart If only I'd thought of the right wordsI wouldn't be breaking apart All my pictures of youLooking so long at these pictures of you But I never hold on to your heart Looking so long for the words to be trueBut always just breaking apartMy pictures of youThere was nothing in the worldThat I ever wanted more Than to feel you deep in my heartThere was nothing in the world That I ever wanted moreThan to never feel the breaking apartAll my pictures of you

Enjoy the music to understand it!

One sweet note is but an ounce of pain.

Do you remember what Darwin says about music? He claims that the power of producing and appreciating it existed among the human race long before the power of speech was arrived at. Perhaps that is why we are so subtly influenced by it. There are vague memories in our souls of those misty centuries when the world was in its childhood.' That's a rather broad idea,' I remarked. One's ideas must be as broad as Nature if they are to interpret Nature,' he answered.

There'll be no more music, Father. But there'll be this!" He stepped into the dark, picked up the knife, and held it under their noses. "Go home. Tell your people what you saw and heard here tonight. And tell 'em that anyone we catch on these roads after dark anymore... this is what they'll get. Now that I know we're never to see the face o' God, we have nothing to lose. So, make sure you have your message right, Father, 'cause there'll be no other warning.

My mind is curiously alert; it's as though my skull had a thousand mirrors inside it. My nerves are taut, vibrant! the notes are like glass balls dancing on a million jets of water. I've never been to a concert before on such an empty belly. Nothing escapes me, not even the tiniest pin falling. It's as though I had no clothes on and every pore of my body was a window and all the windows open and the light flooding my gizzards. I can feel the light curving under the vault of my ribs and my ribs hang there over a hollow nave trembling with reverberations. How long this lasts I have no idea; I have lost all sense of time and place. After what seems like an eternity there follows an interval of semiconsciousness balanced by such a calm that I feel a great lake inside me, a lake of iridescent sheen, cool as jelly; and over this lake, rising in great swooping spirals, there emerge flocks of birds of passage with long slim legs and brilliant plumage. Flock after flock surge up from the cool, still surface of the lake and, passing under my clavicles, lose themselves in the white sea of space. And then slowly, very slowly, as if an old woman in a white cap were going the rounds of my body, slowly the windows are closed and my organs drop back into place.

Amy turned to Nellie. "Can you create a diversion to draw the clerk outside?"The au pair was wary. "What kind of diversion?""You could pretend to be lost," Dan proposed. "The guy comes out to give you directions, and we slip inside.""That's the most sexist idea I've ever heard," Nellie said harshly. "I'm female, so I have to be clueless. He's male, so he's got a great sense of direc

Trends of the times be damned.

If you want to see the beauty of any fish, throw it into the water, you will see how best it can swim because that is its source. Do you want to see the beauty in you? Don't look in the mirror, don't put on makeups, no jewelleries or expensive designer clothes, just go back and reconnect to your source and I bet, the best of you will show up. Until you return back to God, your best won't come out because He is your source.

I felt the sharp sting of emptiness and solitude that you feel so acutely and with such internal sorrow and wonder whenever music is performed well.

Words suck. I mean, every thing has been said. I can't remember the last real interesting conversation I've had in a long time. Words aren't as important as the energy derived from music, especially live.

Art and disease proliferate via contagion, and similar conditions favor both.

I am an old man, and I here declare that I never knew them to be productive of any good in the worship of God, and have reason to believe that they are productive of much evil. Music as a science I esteem and admire, but instrumental music in the house of God I abominate and abhor. This is the abuse of music, and I here register my protest against all such corruption of the worship of the author of Christianity.

London, London, London town,You can toughen up or get thrown around.

Choice betrays character,” I said.“That’s not true.” Loring moved his finger along thesheet as if writing his name in cursive. “Eliza, you can’t judge a man solely on his actions. Sometimes actions are nothing more than reactions.

Sexual union is only truly fulfilling when both parties are at the same level and definition of love. The same exchange of energy. It’s like music. Alone you have your own tune, but when it’s combined with another it can a magical, divine experience. Each part has to know when it leads, like the melody, and when it complements, like the harmony.

I make music for ears, not eyes

The hungry and the haunted explode in a rock'n'roll band.

Who hears music, feels his solitudePeopled at once.

If life throws you a few bad notes, don't let them interrupt your song.

If shame had a face I think itwould kind of look like mineIf it had a home would it be my eyesWould you believe me if I said I'm tired of thisWell here we go now one more timeI tried to climb your stepsI tried to chase you downI tried to see how low I could get it down to the groundI tried to earn my wayI tried to tame this mindYou better believe that I tried to beat this[CHORUS]So when will this end it goes on and onOver and over and over againKeep spinning around I know that it won't stopTill I step down from this for goodI never thought I'd end up hereNever thought I'd be standing where I amI guess I kinda thought it would be easier than thisI guess I was wrong now one more timeI tried to climb your stepsI tried to chase you downI tried to see how long I could get it down to the groundI tried to earn my wayI tried to tame this mindYou better believe that I tried yo beat this[REPEAT CHORUS]Sick cycle carouselThis is a sick sycle, yeahSick cycle carouselThis is a sick cycle, yeah[REPEAT CHORUS TWICE]Sick cycle carouselSick cycle carouselSick cycle carousel...

Music is poetry with personality

Music sweeps by me as a messenger carrying a message that is not for me.

It's like this when you fall hard for a musician. It's a crush with religious overtones. You listen to the songs and you memorize the words and the notes and this is a form of prayer. You attend the shows and this is the liturgy. You're interested in relics -- guitar picks, set lists, the sweaty napkin applied to His brow. You set up shrines in your room. It's not just about the music. It's about who you are when you listen to the music and who you wish to be and the way a particular song can bridge that gap, can make you feel the abrupt thrill of absolute faith.

The clouds took on the shape of dancers; from somewhere far off, Pram heard music before the clouds became normal again.

Carolina beach music," Dupree said, coming up on the porch. "The holiest sound on earth.

It doesn't matter how many drugs I take, I'm not fulfilled. This isn't satisfying. There's a spiritual hunger going on. Everybody feels it. If you don't feel it now, you will. Trust me. You will... Drinking beer is easy. Trashing your hotel room is easy. But being a Christian, that's a tough call. That's the real rebellion.

I’m so proud of my soundtrack ….. Unfaithful a real amazing work of art …..I wanted to create it a long time ago ….but now it sounds magical, a musical Gem

How is it that music can, without words, evoke our laughter, our fears, our highest aspirations?

One day, all those who love in the society of Auld Lang Syne shall meet again. In the New City of the Burning Heart, there, the veil will drop. The arc of the seas shall finally know the skies. Day and night shall end. The clock tower will crumble. Time shall fly to the place of no more. For we were born for meaning. We were born to love. There, we shall all be together with all the lovelies ever known who chose mercy and kindness amidst the forget-me-nots and the countless stars.

It meant different things to different people, but somehow it meant them all intensely. Shostakovich's words just confuse the issue. His symphony itself is what remains. Listen to it. It is your symphony to write with him.

Music is energy, emotion, expression, escapism, enlightenment. Music is so much more than just entertainment.

The musician who always plays on the same string is laughed at.

Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.

I didn't want to sing.I wanted to be music.

A picture is just a picture, but add music and there's emotion. There's a story.

When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,speaking words of wisdom, let it be.And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,speaking words of wisdom, let it be.Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,there will be an answer, let it be.For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,there will be an answer. let it be.Let it be, let it be, .....And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light, that shines on me,shine until tomorrow, let it be.I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,speaking words of wisdom, let it be.Let it be, let it be, .....

I am part of a light, and it is the music. The Light fills my six senses: I see it, hear, feel, smell, touch and think. Thinking of it means my sixth sense. Particles of Light are written note. O bolt of lightning can be an entire sonata. A thousand balls of lightening is a concert.. For this concert I have created a Ball Lightning, which can be heard on the icy peaks of the Himalayas.

Music defines us, for it shapes our souls and minds.

Life is a pigsty.

This is a book for every fiddler who has realized halfway through playing an ancient Scottish air that the Ramones "I Wanna Be Sedated" is what folk music is really all about, and gone straight into it.

These babies ain’t just guitars; these babies are living, breathing instruments.

My guitar's name was Liz. As in, short for Elizabeth, Queen of England. She was a lady.Don't judge.

I enjoy melancholic music and art. They take me to places I don't normally get to go.

We live mindfully by harvesting evocative scenes to pay attention to including the mountains and oceans, flowers and trees, love and friendship, music and literature, art and poetry.

We await their creative interpretations of works by others and we love how they freely adapt and alter the music we like and enjoy. The wonderful magical alchemy they co-create is enough to spur the imagination of the audience. There is no need for other instruments or vocals. The music alone suffices. Listening to them, we can close our eyes and be taken away to a faraway place, we can envision a story or embellish a memory. We can connect to spirit and source and what we connect to in our deepest being is akin to religious experience. They dedicate themselves to each performance fearlessly, courageously, passionately, and generously.

Unhappiness where's when I was young, And we didn't give a damn, 'Cause we were raised, To see life as fun and take it if we can.

The only thing that made the music different was that we were taking lyrics to places they had never been before. The thing that makes art interesting is when an artist has incredible pain or incredible rage. The New York bands were much more into their pain, while the English bands were much more into their rage. The Sex Pistols' songs were written out of anger, wheras Johnny was writing songs because he was brokenhearted over Sable...

I've never known a musician who regretted being one. Whatever deceptions life may have in store for you, music itself is not going to let you down.

Tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.