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Singing Quotes

Browse 3156 quotes about Singing.

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Singing Quotes

“Each in the most hidden sack kept the lost jewels of memory, intense love, secret nights and permanent kisses, the fragment of public or private happiness. A few, the wolves, collected thighs, other men loved the dawn scratching mountain ranges or ice floes, locomotives, numbers. For me happiness was to share singing, praising, cursing, crying with a thousand eyes. I ask forgiveness for my bad ways: my life had no use on earth.”

MenWayUseEyeEarthNightAsksLostMemoriesNumbersSecretShareCryThousandMountainKissingSingingPraiseIntenseIceRangePermanentDawnJewelsFragmentsThighsCursingAsking For ForgivenessIntense LoveLocomotivesMountain Ranges
Book:Still Another Day
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“What is more cheerful, now, in the fall of the year, than an open-wood-fire? Do you hear those little chirps and twitters coming out of that piece of apple-wood? Those are the ghosts of the robins and blue-birds that sang upon the bough when it was in blossom last Spring. In Summer whole flocks of them come fluttering about the fruit-trees under the window: so I have singing birds all the year round.”

YearsLittlesWholeLastsFallFirePiecesTreeSummerSpringSingingBirdWindowBlueFruitRoundsWoodsGhostApplesComing OutCheerfulFlocksRobinsFlutteringFruit TreesSinging BirdsBirds Chirping
Book:Marjorie Daw and Other People
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“Literature was not promulgated by a pale and emasculated critical priesthood singing their litanies in empty churches - nor is it a game for the cloistered elect, the tinhorn mendicants of low calorie despair. Literature is as old as speech. It grew out of human need for it, and it has not changed except to become more needed. The skalds, the bards, the writers are not separate and exclusive. From the beginning, their functions, their duties, their responsibilities have been decreed by our species. --speech at the Nobel Banquet at the City Hall in Stockholm, December 10, 1962”

NeedsHumansHas BeensLiteratureGamesChurchCitiesResponsibilityChangedDutyGrewNeededSpeechDespairSingingLowsEmptyFunctionSpeciesCriticalHallsPaleExclusiveNobelDecemberCaloriesPriesthoodHuman NeedsBanquetsBardsStockholmCity Hall
Book:A Life in Letters
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“And the true realism, always and everywhere, is that of the poets: to find out where joy resides, and give it a voice far beyond singing. For to miss the joy is to miss all.”

GivingJoyVoiceMissingPoetSingingRealism
Book:Collected Memoirs, Travel Sketches and Island Literature of Robert Louis Stevenson: Autobiographical Writings and Essays by the prolific Scottish novelist, poet and travel writer, author of Treasure Island, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Kidnapped & Catriona
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“Happy. Just in my swim shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, swigging wine, spitting, jumping, running—that's the way to live. All alone and free in the soft sands of the beach by the sigh of the sea out there, with the Ma-Wink fallopian virgin warm stars reflecting on the outer channel fluid belly waters. And if your cans are redhot and you can't hold them in your hands, just use good old railroad gloves, that's all.”

IfsWayUseHandsRunningHappinessStarsWaterDarkFireSeaSingingRedWineWarmBeachSandSwimVirginsSighBellyJumpingReflectingFluidGlovesWay To LiveAll AloneRailroadsShortsDharma Bums
Book:The Dharma Bums
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“When the fiddle had stopped singing Laura called out softly, "What are days of auld lang syne, Pa?" "They are the days of a long time ago, Laura," Pa said. "Go to sleep, now." But Laura lay awake a little while, listening to Pa's fiddle softly playing and to the lonely sound of the wind in the Big Woods,… She was glad that the cozy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.”

LittlesLongSaidBigsHouseSoundSleepWindListeningLong TimeSingingLonelyLaysForgottenWoodsGladAwakeLong Time AgoGoing To SleepCozyFiddleLauraLittle House On The Prairie
Book:Little House in the Big Woods
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“The mother memories that are closest to my heart are the small gentle ones that I have carried over from the days of my childhood. They are not profound, but they have stayed with me through life, and when I am very old, they will still be near . . . Memories of mother drying my tears, reading aloud, cutting cookies and singing as she did, listening to prayers I said as I knelt with my forehead pressed against her knee, tucking me in bed and turning down the light. They have carried me through the years and given my life such a firm foundation that it does not rock beneath flood or tempest.”

YearsHeartDoeSaidStillsLightMotherReadingGivenMemoriesPrayerCuttingChildhoodRocksTearsListeningMomMy HeartBedSingingFoundationProfoundFirmGentleKneesClosestFloodCookiesForeheadsTempestThrough The YearsReading AloudFirm Foundation
Author:Margaret Sanger
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“Have you ever heard somebody sing some lyrics that you've never sung before, and you realize you've never sung the right words in that song? You hear them and all of a sudden you say to yourself, 'Life in the Fast Lane?' That's what they're saying right there? You think, 'why have I been singing 'wipe in the vaseline?' how many people have heard me sing 'wipe in the vaseline?' I am an idiot.”

PeopleThinkingSongRealizingMusicHeardSingingIdiotWipeLanesRight WordsFast LaneVaseline
Book:My Point...And I Do Have One
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“There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; And frogs in the pool singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white; Robins will wear their feathery fire, Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire; And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done. Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree, If mankind perished utterly; And Spring herself when she woke at dawn Would scarcely know that we were gone.”

IfsKnowsMindWarDoneCareLastsNightSoundWhiteGoneFireTreeMankindSpringSingingLowsBirdRainSmellDawnPoolFenceWireFrogsWhimRobinsPlumsWhistling
Book:Collected Poems
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“EVERYONE suddenly burst out singing; And I was filled with such delight As prisoned birds must find in freedom, Winging wildly across the white Orchards and dark-green fields; on—on—and out of sight. Everyone’s voice was suddenly lifted; And beauty came like the setting sun: My heart was shaken with tears; and horror Drifted away ... O, but Everyone Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.”

HeartDoneSongVoiceDarkWhiteSunFieldsTearsMy HeartHorrorSingingBirdSightGreenFilledDelightSettingSettingsOrchardGreen Fields
Author:Siegfried Sassoon
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“there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody's asleep. I say, I know that you're there, so don't be sad. then I put him back, but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it's nice enough to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?”

KnowsMenWantHeartLittlesSometimesEnoughTogetherNightDiesSleepSecretNiceHavensMy HeartSingingCleverPactBluebirdDon't Be Sad
Book:On Love
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“And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled a sweet fragrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water. And then it seemed to him that as in his dream in the house of Bombadil, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.”

CountryDreamLastsNightHouseSoundWaterWhiteHeardAirSeaSweetSingingRainGreenWestGlassesShipsSilverShoreSunriseGreyCurtainsFragranceFrodoHigh Seas
Book:The Lord of the Rings: The return of the King
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“It was autumn, the springtime of death. Rain spattered the rotting leaves, and a wild wind wailed. Death was singing in the shower. Death was happy to be alive. The fetus bailed out without a parachute. It landed in the sideline Astroturf, so upsetting the cheerleaders that for the remained of the afternoon their rahs were more like squeaks.”

AliveWindSingingRainUpsetAutumnAfternoonShowersSpringtimeCheerleaderRottingSidelinesParachutesFetusHappy To Be AliveSinging In The Shower
Author:Tom Robbins
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“Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that's the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing. Nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him if he gives too much.”

IfsGivingHeartChildrenCountryRunningEarthWaterLaughingSunFireToo MuchLandCryMountainSingingBirdRedMovedSilentFingersSettingSettingsBelovedValleysUnbornUnborn ChildBeloved CountryCry The Beloved Country
Book:Cry, the beloved country: a verse drama
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