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Folk Quotes

Browse 46 quotes about Folk.

Folk Quotes

“My sorrow in the nights of past I left, all the sadness from your lack, at rest, since you’re with me, lacking, the world is aglow, back at folk advice I throw; if I took advice, I’d about you forget, I’d think of another, myself loose I’d let, yet I wouldn’t always remain just this calm, confined in myself, I’d hold me in my palm…”

“Asch took from his bankruptcy an important lesson: he decided that he never wanted to record another hit record. In early 1949, he commented to an unnamed writer from People’s Songs (the newsletter of left-wing folk music) that he had “focused too much time and money on popular jazz” and from this point forward he would focus on “good records,” which would be “sold to a small circle of people who will buy them.”

“My definition of an intellectual is someone who can listen to the William Tell Overture without thinking of the Lone Ranger" - Billy Connolly”

“Kushdo qofte, edhe njeriu i vogel, nga ata qe nuk e turbullojne ujin, qe askujt s'i bien me qafe, qe rrojne me friken e perendise, por edhe me friken per veten, shkojne me mendjen te mos ngacmojne njeri se keshtu as ate vete nuk do ta ngacmojne, do ta lene te qete ne hallet e tij, nuk deshiron qe te tjeret te futin hundet ne jeten e perditshme qe ben, nuk ia ka enda te flasin ne e ka te ri apo te vjeter jelekun, ne i ka te reja apo me mballoma çizmet, nuk ia ka enda te marrin vesh te tjeret ç'eshte duke ngrene, çfare po shkruan?... E ç'te keqe paska, moj zemer, qe une, kur shoh xhadene te prishur, eci ne maje te gishtave, shkel me kujdes per te ruajtur çizmet? Pse duhet shkruar per tjetrin qe ndonjehere nuk ka para as per te pire nje gote çaj? Sikur qenka e thene dhe e vulosur qe njerezit, te gjithe sa jane, patjeter duhet te pine çaj. Po pse e udhes qenka te shohesh ne gojen e tjetrit per te ditur ç'cope eshte duke pertypur? A fyhet njeriu keshtu? Jo, shpirti im! Perse u dashka fyer tjetri kur ai s'te ngacmon?”

“I had no songs in my repertoire for commercial radio anyway. Songs about debauched bootleggers, mothers that drowned their own children, Cadillacs that only got five miles to the gallon, floods, union hall fires, darkness and cadavers at the bottom of rivers weren't for radiophiles. There was nothing easygoing about the folk songs I sang. They weren't friendly or ripe with mellowness. They didn't come gently to the shore. I guess you could say they weren't commercial. Not only that, my style was too erratic and hard to pigeonhole for the radio, and songs, to me, were more important that just light entertainment. They were my preceptor and guide into some altered consciousness of reality, some different republic, some liberated republic. Greil Marcus, the music historian, would some thirty years later call it "the invisible republic." Whatever the case, it wasn't that I was anti-popular culture or anything and I had no ambitions to stir things up. i just thought of popular culture as lame as hell and a big trick. It was like the unbroken sea of frost that lay outside the window and you had to have awkward footgear to walk on it. I didn't know what age of history we were in nor what the truth of it was. Nobody bothered with that. If you told the truth, that was all well and good and if you told the un-truth, well, that's still well and good. Folk songs taught me that.”

“Speranza si incupì sotto lo sguardo delle nipotine, le sopracciglia bianche si incontrarono al centro della fronte e la luce aranciata dell’abat-jour marcava le rughe come trincee nere, creava ombre scure nell’incavo degli occhi e sotto il mento. «Sa Filonzana» disse. «La Filatrice» chiarì subito dopo, a beneficio delle bambine. [...] «Lei fila il destino della gente» continuò. «E lo interrompe, se deve. Zac! Taglia il filo» spiegò, mimando un paio di forbici con le dita, quasi volesse giocare a Carta-Forbici-Sasso. «Come le Parche» osservò Elena, dall’alto dei suoi dieci anni di saggezza.”

“[...] e fu allora che Elena notò il tatuaggio sul collo: sotto l’orecchio appariva un cerchio diviso in quattro parti da due linee incrociate. Ogni quarto era riempito da righe che formavano un diverso motivo, a volte più strette, altre più larghe, ondulate o riempite da puntini. Una pintadera, il timbro con cui fin dall’età nuragica si usava marchiare il pane per portarlo al forno comune o colorarsi il corpo, per segnare l’appartenenza a una precisa famiglia. Il simbolo, diverso per ogni casa, era sopravvissuto tra i cacciatori per riconoscersi tra loro come facenti parte di un’unica gilda, pur facendo parte di ceppi differenti.”

“Nel mentre, Aurora cominciò a recitare un brebu, una preghiera – o forse sarebbe stato più corretto chiamarlo incantesimo – in sardo, le cui origini risalivano a ben prima dell’arrivo del cristianesimo, quando i popoli veneravano la terra e il cielo sotto il nome di una sola Dea, la Madre. I brebus potevano avere molti fini, ma questo era cantato affinché lo spirito trovasse pace.”

“Το Καρναβάλι εισέβαλλε πανηγυρικά και μέσα στα σπίτια - άλλαζαν οι παλμοί της καρδιάς όταν άκουγες τα κουδούνια να ξηλώνουν τις σκάλες και να 'ρχονται κατά πάνω σου - και φτάνοντας στη γωνιά όπου καθόταν το γεροντότερο και γι' αυτό σεβαστότερο πρόσωπο της οικογένειας, του έδινε με χειροφίλημα ένα απ' τα πορτοκάλια του ζητώντας να συγχωρεθούν τα αμαρτήματα' ή με την γενικότερη και μονολεκτική έκφραση "συγχωρεμένα". Στην συνέχεια απ' την χαρά του θαρρείς γι' αυτό που ζήτησε και πήρε, αλλά και γι 'αυτό που πρόσφερε, έφερνε τους πανηγυρικότερους κύκλους μες στο δωμάτιο κινώντας μπρος-πίσω το σώμα του, απανωτά, με πολλή δύναμη, έτσι που το μπατάλι να ζει τις ενδοξότερες στιγμές του φτάνοντας ως ψηλά στην πλάτη, ξαναπέφτοντας στα χαμηλά και ξαναγγίζοντας τα ύψη... Για να μην ξεχνάμε κιόλας πώς όλα αυτά λειτουργούσαν και ως πρόφαση, ευγενής πρόφαση, προκειμένου να φάνε κι οι άνθρωποι τότε ένα πορτοκάλι!...”

“Младите днес залитат по чуждото, защото не познават историята си. Самият аз пишех експериментално и отвлечено, докато не открих чудния свят на българския фолклор и славно минало.”

“The cultured court singer of heroic lays disappears along with the heroic spirit of his public, but heroic poetry survives the heroic age and is more long-lived than the society to which it owes its origin. After the decline of the military aristocratic culture, it turns from an exclusive class interest into a universal art. The fact that this declension was so easily brought about, and that the same kind of poetry could be understood and enjoyed by the upper and lower classes almost simultaneously, can only be explained by assuming that the difference in cultural standards between the rulers and the ruled cannot have been anything like so great as in later ages. It is true that from the very beginning the rulers lived in a different sphere from the people, but they were not yet so conscious of the gulf that divided them from the lower classes.”

“Бедные люди капризны, — это уж так от природы устроено. Я это и прежде чувствовал. Он, бедный-то человек, он взыскателен; он и на свет-то божий иначе смотрит, и на каждого прохожего косо глядит, да вокруг себя смущенным взором поводит, да прислушивается к каждому слову, — дескать, не про него ли там что говорят? ...И ведомо каждому, Варенька, что бедный человек хуже ветошки и никакого ни от кого уважения получить не може, что уж там ни пиши!”

“Discussing his ability to adopt lyrics that someone else has written and sing them with conviction and true emotion, Kotamaki stated that singing about the burden of loss, of a losing a clos person, and the difficulty o fdealing with emotional agony is a human experience, relatable to anyone....As a shared human experience, both the expression of emotions and the difficulty of dealing with the loss of a loved one can surely be considered appealing to 'folk' regardless of one's musical taste, nationality, or country of residence...”

“In the course of the history of art and literature we repeatedly meet this stylistic differentiation according to subject-matter. For example, the dual manner of characterization employed by Shakespeare, according to which his servants and clowns speak in everyday prose but his heroes and lords in elaborately artistic verse, corresponds to this ‘Egyptian’, thematically determined alternation of style. For Shakespeare’s characters do not speak the different language of the various classes as they exist in reality, like the characters in a modern drama, for instance, who are all drawn naturalistically, whether they are of high or low degree, but the members of the ruling class are portrayed in a stylized manner and express themselves in a language non-existent in real life, whereas the representatives of the common people are described realistically and speak the idiom of the street, the inns and the workshop.”

“Guess life is really a road marked by crossroads. It's not the long and winding stretches that will hurt you the most. It's the crossroads. You make a bad choice and it's a tumble and a rumble before you get back on your feet again. But you'll get back on your feet. You'll find yourself. And then you'll be off to your next adventure (crossroads, I mean). In my case, I always had a safety net—my faith in God. But then, I'm more like the millions of simple folk who travel this world.”