Oh to be a pear tree - any tree in bloom! With kissing bees singing of the beginning of the world!
Oh to be a pear tree - any tree in bloom! With kissing bees singing of the beginning of the world!
In that moment Ged understood the singing of the bird, and the language of the water falling in the basin of the fountain, and the shape of the clouds, and the beginning and end of the wind that stirred the leaves; it seemed to him that he himself was a word spoken by the sunlight.
Birds are settling down for the night, singing lullabies to their young.
Everywhere was singing, all over the house was singing, and outside the house was alive with singing, and the very air was song.
Allow me, in conclusion, to congratulate you warmly upon your sexual intercourse, as well as your singing.
I had read a Tale of Two Cities and found it up to my standards as a romantic novel. She opened the first page and I heard poetry for the first time in my life...her voice slid in and curved down trough and over the words. She was nearly singing.
I listened wide-eyed, stupid. Glowing by her voice in the dim light. If chocolate was a sound, it would've been Constantine's voice singing. If singing was a color, it would've been the color of that chocolate.
The church and the whorehouse arrived in the Far West simultaneously. And each would have been horrified to think it was a different facet of the same thing. But surely they were both intended to accomplish the same thing: the singing, the devotion, the poetry of the churches took a man out of his bleakness for a time, and so did the brothels.
She suffers as a miser. She must be miserly with her pleasures, as well. I wonder if sometimes she doesn't wish she were free of this monotonous sorrow, of these mutterings which start as soon as she stops singing, if she doesn't wish to suffer once and for all, to drown herself in despair. In any case, it would be impossible for her: she is bound.
There are no words and there is no singing, but the music has a voice. It is an old voice and a deep voice, like the stump of a sweet cigar or a shoe with a hole. It is a voice that has lived and lives, with sorrow and shame, ecstasy and bliss, joy and pain, redemption and damnation. It is a voice with love and without love. I like the voice, and though I can't talk to it, I like the way it talks to me. It says it is all the same, Young Man. Take it and let it be.
I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing...maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry.
He pulled out the cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy -- he didn't feel much like singing.
The tune was too ingrained for Mortenson to consider the novelty of this moment- an American, lost in Pakistan, singing a German hymn in Swahili.
She had had her momentary flowering, a year, perhaps, of wildrose beauty, and then she had suddenly swollen like a fertilized fruit and grown hard and red and coarse, and then her life had been laundering, scrubbing, laundering, first for children, then for grandchildren, over thirty years. At the end of it she was still singing.
Do you know what I think about crying? I think some people have to learn to do it. But once you learn, once you know how to really cry, there's nothing quite like it. I feel sorry for those who don't know the trick. It's like whistling or singing.
Acting, I love it and I feel that I'm good at it, but the thing that makes me feel most alive is when I'm playing guitar and singing.
As for the Folsom Prison show, ... would anybody have the guts to do that show now 50 Cent, maybe I think the whole idea of even playing to a crowd of people like that is so politically unfavorable now - it's like, 'What are you doing, singing for these people Do they deserve it' There's such anger in our culture right now, that kind of grace and forgiveness, we don't see that very often.
Anytime we have an opportunity to reach out and share children's music and children's singing, it's great thing. Even older people, when they hear it, their eyes light up. This is our future.
My life is singing. I don't plan on retiring. I plan to die on a stage. I can have a headache but when it's time to sing and I step on that stage there is no more headache.
So we started singing, and eventually we began to think we had something special. I thought we could sing as well as The Golden Gate Quartet, and if they could go out in the world and do it, well, so could we.
I get the greatest feeling when I'm singing. It's other-worldly. Your feet are anchored into the Earth and into this energy force that comes up through your feet and goes up the top of your head and maybe you're holding hands with the angels or the stars, I have no idea.
So be my passing My task accomplished and the long day done, My wages taken, and in my heart Some late lark singing, Let me be gathered in the quiet west, The sundown splendid and serene, Death.
God gave me a gift of singing and playing the piano, and when I do it, it's exciting, of course. But it's more than that. It's truly the way God created me to release my soul and my spirit, to really worship him. ... I'm made to create music.
Singing brings out in me what I can't normally bring out in everyday life. It's an incredible feeling to be able to bare your soul to people you've never met in a way that can make them understand so clearly what you mean. That's what I love most about singing ... it becomes my truest form of communication.
Idiom is larger than geography it is the hot breath of a people singing, slashing, explorative. Imagery becomes the magic denominator, the language of a passage, saying the ancient unchanging particulars.
The very best thing that could happen to a voice, if it shows any promise at all, is when it is very young to leave it alone and to let it develop quite naturally, and to let the person go on as long as possible with the sheer joy of singing . . .
I'm very happy to sing whatever I'm singing. I've always enjoyed any role I've been given at a certain time. They've all been favourites, they've all been wonderful pieces to play.
In the distance someone is singing.
I'm not a big fan of Robert Plant's lyrics or his singing.
Everyone in my family sings and it's just a natural thing that I haven't thought about too much. There was never a time when I wasn't singing. From the ages of three to five I loved Gloria Estefan and could sing Anything for You pitch-perfect. Mum and dad loved classical music and my grampy used to sing show tunes. Now I like everything from the Manic Street Preachers to Alicia Keys, some classical music if I'm feeling melancholy, and I'm not too fussed on rap although I can deal with 50 Cent. Mainly my musical tastes seem to change with each new boyfriend. I'm so fickle at this age.
In the South of long ago whenever a new man appeared for work in any of the laborers' gangs, he would be asked if he could sing. If he could he got the job. The singing of these working men set the rhythm for the work.
You didn't hear the angels singing. It was brought down to Mother Earth, which is where it should be. And that led me to a lot of other reading.
I don't think we should speak so much. What if we were singing a song? We split, whilst singing.
After using four different languages on an album, it's tough to decide which one I'm gonna actually learn to speak. I always study the lyric, make sure I know what I'm singing, and try to get the pronunciation as perfect as possible.
Broadway is a tough, tough arena for singing.
Again, I say I will be glad to tell what songs I have ever sung, because singing is my business.
Due to Cleveland being an early center for Christian publishing and gospel singing, we believe a vast amount of materials exist in the community.
I will confess I did none of my own singing. I did all my own costume and makeup, though.
Another thing I like to do is sit back and take in nature. To look at the birds, listen to their singing, go hiking, camping and jogging and running, walking along the beach, playing games and sometimes being alone with the great outdoors. It's very special to me.
I think I kind of came out of the womb singing. I think I was, like, born at the hospital, and, you know, popped out, and was singing. ... I'm not sure really how it happened. I can't remember a time when I wasn't singing, or banging a beat on the dinner table.
My grandmother sang, too, and she was really loud. It was this wild kind of singing. I count her among my influences.
Singing was the big focus and outlet for me.
I stood in front of Sony (Music headquarters) out here, I stood right in front of the building with a jam box and a tape player, singing my heart out,
I hated singing. I wanted to be an actress. But I don't think I'd have made it any other way.
All of which I agreed to, with the exception of playing on the songs while singing, ... We butted heads as far as that one was concerned -- I complained about it every day. Fortunately, Rick stuck to his guns because the result is really some kind of magi
God, I'm just a fat bald guy, 60 years old, singing the blues, you know?
It was he who impressed, time and again, the necessity of singing as nature intended, and - I remember - he constantly warned, don't let the public know that you work. So I went slowly. I never forced the voice.
Vilma, 23, and Reed, 28, do not have the luxury of merely tolerating each other. The middle linebacker and the nose tackle have to be able to play off each other like a singing duet. I have to keep guys off him, ... I've got to make plays, be a dominant player in the middle.
I spun, I wove, I kept the house, I nursed the sick,
I made the garden, and for holiday
Rambled over the fields where sang the larks,
And by Spoon River gathering many a shell,
And many a flower and medicinal weed--
Shouting to the wooded hills, singing to the green valleys.
Humor keeps the elderly rolling along, singing a song. When you laugh, its an involuntary explosion of the lungs. The lungs need to replenish themselves with oxygen. So you laugh, you breathe, the blood runs, and everything is circulating. If you dont laugh, youll die.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories