Quotes about song

Song an intangible medicine that heals both the body and the soul intangibly for a moment.

You are my favorite song a rhythm of beauty that captures my spirit.

Wolf Star shines on wintry highGazing northward by and by.Ice and snow on shorelines lieWind and spirits haunt the sky.

'Dirt On My Boots' is a very different song. I heard the melody, and I heard the lyrics, and I heard the drive of that song. I totally related. It was kinda me when I was on my bulldozer working for my dad.

Taylor was named after James Taylor and claims that she knows all the James Taylor songs, and I'm a huge fan of James Taylor and know all his songs, too. My dad told me that if I ever met Taylor Swift, I had to tell her that I know every James Taylor song. We started naming albums, and we were both shouting them out.

God is the composer you are the song.

'Endless Love' is such a perfect love song for a wedding or for a Valentine, because that is the committed kind of endless love. All the lyrics are perfect.

If you write a song, and you go into a restaurant, and there's a guy with a piano singing and he's playing piano, singing your song, or you hear it at a wedding or at an airport... it's fun!

Some of the press who speak loudly about the freedom of the press are themselves the enemies of freedom. Countless people dare not say a thing because they know it will be picked up and made a song of by the press. That limits freedom.

I'd want it to be really special to both of us, but I'm a huge fan of 'At Last' as a wedding song. But what's also really cool is songs that no one else would have at their wedding, like an obscure Radiohead song.

Even in the beginning, when we knew there was a legal argument about how much our song sounds like his song, as one songwriter to another, I wasn't sure that Cat Stevens would take that as bad.

The longer one is alone, the easier it is to hear the song of the earth.

If you are in a movie theater, you can look two people down and they are laughing while you are laughing or you can look three people down and they love that song that you love. It is living proof that you are not alone.

It's very hard to write a song alone. It's only by jamming that you can get a song together.

Whenever you're in a relationship, you have that favorite song that reminds you of when you first got together or when you first kissed, and then every time you hear that song, it reminds you of that person.

'Before I Ever Met You' was the first one to come out and that just dives into the grit, and it's pretty graphic about a relationship. For my first song, it was very special the way it happened, because I didn't really hold anything back, and people responded to it.

I haven't always been into fitness. But I noticed that when I'd be on stage playing a show, I could hardly make it through the fifth song without having to take a breather.

I write a lot, and very often I write a couple of lines that are particularly revealing in some kind of way. And then as a few more lines get added and a piece gets added, eventually the song pretty much takes over and you can't really find a way to change those things.

Men, even when alone, lighten their labors by song, however rude it may be.

The emotions in a song - the anger, aggression - have got to be legitimate.

The idea of a soulmate is beautiful and very romantic to talk about it in a movie or a song, but in reality, I find it scary.

I came across 'The Song of Achilles' by Madeline Miller in one of the most romantic ways one can find a story. I was digging through a pile of used books at my local library when my hand gravitated toward its brilliant teal and glistening gold cover.

I don't want to do romantic roles where I have to lip sync to a song. A role that explores romance on a new level would suit me.

The first thing that inspires me is my mood, but I take inspiration from a lot of things: a rock song, a romantic movie or a specific lifestyle, like 1960s London and, of course, Italian 'dolce vita!'

There are still many tribal cultures where poetry and song, there is just one word for them. There are other cultures with literacy where poetry and song are distinguished. But poetry always remembers that it has its origins in music.

The sense of flowing, which is so crucial to song, is also crucial to poetry.

When I started writing poetry, it was always in very hip-hop influenced spaces: Someone would teach a Nas song side-by-side with a Gwendolyn Brooks poem, and we'd talk about the connections between those things.

When we study Shakespeare on the page, for academic purposes, we may require all kinds of help. Generally, we read him in modern spelling and with modern punctuation, and with notes. But any poetry that is performed - from song lyric to tragic speech - must make its point, as it were, without reference back.

I've written poetry since I was in the first grade, and it wasn't until I was a little bit older that I realized poetry could be put to music and become a song.

When I play with my band around the U.S.A., the most requested song is 'Peace Frog.'

Under the Mountain dark and tallThe King has come unto his hall!His foe is dead,the Worm of Dread,And ever so his foes shall fall.The sword is sharp, the spear is long,The arrow swift, the Gate is strong;The heart is bold that looks on gold;The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,While hammers fells like ringing bellsIn places deep, where dark things sleep,In hollow halls beneath the fells.-from The Hobbit (Dwarves Battle Song)

I fell for her in summer, my lovely summer girl,From summer she is made, my lovely summer girl,I’d love to spend a winter with my lovely summer girl,But I’m never warm enough for my lovely summer girl,It’s summer when she smiles, I’m laughing like a child,It’s the summer of our lives; we’ll contain it for a whileShe holds the heat, the breeze of summer in the circle of her handI’d be happy with this summer if it’s all we ever had.

There is a place where the sidewalk endsAnd before the street begins,And there the grass grows soft and white,And there the sun burns crimson bright,And there the moon-bird rests from his flightTo cool in the peppermint wind.Let us leave this place where the smoke blows blackAnd the dark street winds and bends.Past the pits where the asphalt flowers growWe shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,And watch where the chalk-white arrows goTo the place where the sidewalk ends.Yes we'll walk

The worst things in life come free to us

If I could be anywhere, where would I be?

Yes, and only if my own true love was waiting If I could hear his heart softly pounding Yes, and only if he was lying by me Would I lie in my bed once again.

I haven't changed, but I know I ain't the same.

JAMIE'S SONG 'UN-BROKE':Un-broke and,All is well.I did not expect that.Unspoken,All I felt.I should not have done that.But now that is all behind me.Something else, something more defines me.I could be scattered all over the world again,And I would still be me.Find my way back here again.Though I don’t think that could happen, I feel so unbreakable,Now that I am un-broke.Like the wind,I floated. I could not change one thing.Like the trees,I stood there.Branches swayed bare in Spring.My darkest d

And my hopes they are high I must keep them small

Which one of us, went and fucked up?

We are nothing but shadows Fading away Trying to hold on to This bittersweet life That we call our own...

How strange it is to be anything at all.

Maybe the key to finding the perfect song is simply rewriting the lyrics.

You held me down, but I got upHey!Alrighty brushing off the dust You hear my voice You hear that soundLike thunder gonna shake the ground-Roar

This is how it works: you're young until you're not. You love until you don't, you try until you can't, you laugh until you cry, you cry until you laugh. And everyone must breathe until their dying breath. This is how it works: you peer inside yourself, you take the things you like and try to love the things you don't. And then you take that love you make and stick it into someone else's heart pumping someone else's blood.

You made me feel less aloneYou made me feel not quite soDeformed, uninformed and hunchbackedAre you aware wherever you areThat you have just died?

Right from the start, you were a thief, you stole my heart.

You own me with whispers like poetry.Your mouth is a melody I memorize.

So when your hopes on fire,But you know your desire,Don't hold a glass over the flame,Don't let your heart grow cold, I will call you by name, I will share your road.

The great error consists in supposing that poetry is an unnatural form of language. We should all like to speak poetry at the moment when we truly live, and if we do not speak it, it is because we have an impediment in our speech. It is not song that is the narrow or artificial thing, it is conversation that is a broken and stammering attempt at song. When we see men in a spiritual extravaganza, like Cyrano de Bergerac, speaking in rhyme, it is not our language disguised or distorted, but our la

Sing your own song. There are always some earnest listeners.

I am always hearing. . . the sound of a far off song. I do not exactly know where it is, or what it means; and I don't hear much of it, only the odour of its music, as it were, flitting across the great billows of the ocean outside this air in which I make such a storm; but what I do hear, is quite enough to make me able to bear the cry from the drowning ship. So it would you if you could hear it.''No it wouldn't,' returned Diamond stoutly. 'For they wouldn't hear the music of the far-away song;

It all goes aroundIt all goes aroundThe planet goes around the sunIt all goes aroundMy mother said it all goes aroundIt all goes aroundThe ship goes around the station

I fell for her in summer, my lovely summer girlFrom summer she is made my lovely summer girlI'd love to spend a winter with my lovely summer girlBut I'm never warm enough for my lovely summer girlIt's summer when she smiles, I'm laughing like a childIt's the summer of our lives; we'll contain it for a whileShe holds the heat, the breeze of summer in the circle of her handI'd be happy with this summer if it's all we ever had.

Love conquers all," murmured Kim. "I heard it in a song, so it must be true.

There's always a siren, singing you to shipwreck. Some of us may be more susceptible than others are, but there's always a siren. It may be with us all our lives, or it may be many years or decades before we find it or it finds us. But when it does find us, if we're lucky we're Odysseus tied up to the ship's mast, hearing the song with perfect clarity, but ferried to safety by a crew whose ears have been plugged with beeswax. If we're not at all lucky, we're another sort of sailor stepping off t

The demon at length fell to singing a gentle, flickering little song. It was not in any language Sophie knew - or she thought not, until she distinctly heard the word "saucepan" in it several times...

It is not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us fathers and sons.

Let's swim to the moonLet's climb through the tideSurrender to the waiting worldsThat lap against our side.

All the little duckies with their heads in the waterHeads in the waterAll the little duckies with their heads in the waterOh, such sweet little duckies.

I was surrounded by hundreds of drowned children, heads in the water, their little feet in the air.All the little duckies, with their heads in the waterHeads in the water.It was my punishment. Honor lost. Everything lost.Shame is a hunter.My shame was all around me now.

I wish for today and dream of yesterday. If the gods should hold me in their favor, then I shall hope for tomorrow.

John will never forsake the weak and the helpless, nor fail to bring hope to the hopeless. That is what they believe, and so they do not worry. They go on and laugh and sing. Things are bound to come out right tomorrow. That is the secret of Negro song and laughter.

The taste of moon's song.

Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people, and finally I did on the open road.We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore, except to make our lives into a work of art.

We need music the most when we’re feeling things really intensely. I think the most intense times in your life are when you’re either falling in love or losing it

Her voice is filled with distant sonorities, like reverberations in a cave: now you are at the place of annihilation, now you are at the place of annihilation. And she is herself a cave full of echoes, she is a system of repetitions, she is a closed circuit.’ Can a bird sing only the song it knows or can it learn a new song?’ She draws her long, sharp fingernail across the bars of the cage in which her pet lark sings, striking a plangent twang like that of the plucked heartstrings of a woman of

Poets sing our human music for us.

I always think of each night as a song. Or each moment as a song. But now I'm seeing we don't live in a single song. We move from song to song, from lyric to lyric, from chord to chord. There is no ending here. It's an infinite playlist.

Its where my demons hide.

As he stood up and gathered his attaché case and notebook, I reminded him that it had already been three weeks -- and counting.

They had met at a club fifteen years before, Etta and Magnus. He had convinced her to dance with him, and she said she had been in love by the end of the song. He told her he had been in love before the beginning.

Tell me all of the things that make you feel at ease

Our heavenly Father is great in mercy,He feeds and clothes us everyday, We will worship and humbly learn from himFor our Lord clothes the grass of the field.

Listen my hatchling, for now you shall hear Of the only seven slayers a dragon must fear. First beware Pride, lest belief in one’s might Has you discount the foeman who is braving your sight.Never Envy other dragons their wealth, power, or home For dark plots and plans will bring death to your own. Your Wrath shouldn’t win, when spears strike your scale Anger kills cunning, which you will need to prevail. A dragon must rest, but Sloth you should dread Else long years of napping let assassins to

God's FoolIf loving God, celebrating God, loving life, being a servant, loving my neighbor is foolish then let me be a fool. If loving God, celebrating God though art, poetry, song & dance is a fools game then let me be a fool.If trusting Jesus is a foolish waste of time and energy then let it be known by one and all I shall waste everyday every dollar I shall waste time and eternity celebrating Jesus the one who loves and delights in me.

When something seems unbalanced and out of rhythm, just a song can tune things up in a moment. The power of music is therapy.

And tonight I'm feelin like an astronaut, sending sos from this tiny box,and i lost the signal when i lifted off, now i'm stuck up here and the world forgot, can i please come down? Cuz i'm tired of drifting round and round....can i please come down? Now I lie awake and scream in my zero gravity...and its starting to weigh down on me....lets abort this mission now....CAN I PLEASE COME DOWN? So tonight I'm calling all the astronauts, all the lonely people that the world forgot, if you hear my voi

So long as the human spirit thrives on this planet, music in some living form will accompany and sustain it and give it expressive meaning.

Then all the winds of Heaven ran to join hands and bend a shoulder, to bring down to me the sound of a noble hymn that was heavy with the perfume of Time That Has Gone.The glittering multitudes were singing most mightily, and my heart was in blood to hear a Voice that I knew.The Men of the Valley were marching again.My Fathers were singing up there.Loud, triumphant, the anthem rose, and I knew, in some deep place within, that in the royal music was a prayer to lift up my spirit, to be of good ch

Sometimes the rainfallsjust for you and meto be the violinplaying in the backgroundof our loneliness's song.

Through my history's despiteand ruin, I have cometo its remainder, and herehave made the beginningof a farm intended to becomemy art of being here.By it I would instructmy wants: they should belongto each other and to this place.Until my song comes hereto learn its words, my artis but the hope of song.(Part 2 from History is Clearing, p 174)

To share is precious, pure and fair.Don't play with something you should cherish for life. Don't you wanna care, ain't it lonely out there?

Over the boundary of time,Hope transcends,Desire sings,One verse,One song,And that is the song of happiness.

When someone asks me what a song is about, it’s like, I feel like I might ruin it if you ask me that. I feel like I did my best to explain the song in the song on its own terms as a song.

Inside my head / or in a distant / Galaxy / Soft I hear it / Calling me." from the song "In the Blackness" in the poetry collection "Terra Affirmative".

Life is a song - sing it. Life is a game - play it. Life is a challenge - meet it. Life is a dream - realize it. Life is a sacrifice - offer it. Life is love - enjoy it.

For all the way he loved her. Every song had her memory, every rain had her smell, and every girl had her face.

Throughout my career, if I have done anything, I have paid attention to every note and every word I sing - if I respect the song. If I cannot project this to a listener, I fail.

A lot can be said with just a look, or the way the body moves. Each song is a different character. So each song takes on a different movement of the body. And the body has to go with the subject and the attitude that you have toward that subject.

I don't mean this in a stuck-up way, but I needed an attitude song.

There's a punk-rock attitude, clearly, to 'Hated.' There's even a punk-rock attitude to 'The Hangover,' I think. We start the movie with a Glenn Danzig song.

Beautiful songs and voice echo in my heart.

I got the Eye of the Tiger The FireDancing through the fire Cause I am a Champion!And your gonna hear me Roar-Roar

Float beyond the world of trees. Out into the whispering breeze, past the rushes, past the weeds, past the marsh's waving reeds.

And what if there are no damsels in distress?What if I knew that, and I called your bluff?Don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down,whether or not you ever show up?

Hush now, my darlingIt's all okayNothing can hurt youThe world won't end today Lay down your headGet some restThis time will passWe're coming up on the bestJust give it timeIt's all gonna changeBut remember it takes timeFor things to rearrangeThere are happy people in happy placesMy darling, out thereOne day, it'll changeOne day, it'll change

My favourite songs from literally all my favourite albums are usually always track 10. Coincidence? Conspiracy? Illuminati? Time will tell.

She set out for revenge, to run them through, to do what an elf, an elf must do.” The next verse was Merill’s to improvise. “Climbed that roost, alighted right there. Made mush of his head for the onlooker bears.” “A two-pronger her prize, a meat most rare. Do-gooders will pay. Do-gooders will fear.” “Ballad of the loneliest ones,” lamented Merill. “The loneliest ones,” said Almi. She accepted that title; they were the loneliest. The elf gloomed.