Music is the art which is most nigh to tears and memories.
For me, every sound has its own minute form - is composed of small flashing rhythms, shifting tones, has momentum, comes, vanishes, lives out its own structure.
Music with dinner is an insult both to the cook and the violinist.
A good composer does not imitate; he steals.
Life is like a beautiful melody, only the lyrics are messed up.
There's a lot of different forms of communication, but music is absolutely the purest one.
Music is the poor man's Parnassus.
Inspiring music may fill the soul with heavenly thoughts, move one to righteous action, or speak peace to the soul.
Don't be a drag. Just be a queen.
The most effective preaching of the gospel is when it is accompanied by beautiful, appropriate music.
Music is not merely a study, it is an entertainment; wherever there is music there is a throng of listeners.
Music is nothing else but wild sounds civilised into time and tune.
It is the stretched soul that makes music, and souls are stretched by the pull of opposites-opposite bents, tastes, yearnings, loyalties. Where there is no polarity-where energies flow smoothly in one direction-there will be much doing but no music.
An organist who has the sensitivity to quietly play prelude music from the hymnbook tempers our feelings and causes us to go over in our minds the lyrics which teach the peaceable things of the kingdom. If we will listen, they are teaching the gospel, for the hymns of the Restoration are, in fact, a course in doctrine!
Music is the thousandth of a millisecond between one note and another; how you get from one to the other-that's where the music is.
There are two golden rules for an orchestra: start together and finish together. The public doesn't give a damn what goes on in between.
I think sometimes could I only have music on my own terms, could I live in a great city, and know where I could go whenever I wished the ablution and inundation of musical waves, that were a bath and a medicine.
Starting in the middle of a musical sentence and moving in both directions at once.
Sweet music! sacred tongue of God.
The rustle of the leaves in summer's hush When wandering breezes touch them, and the sigh That filters through the forest, or the gush That swells and sinks amid the branches high,-- 'Tis all the music of the wind, and we Let fancy float on the aeolian breath.
Music is your own experience, your own thoughts, your wisdom.
Yet half the beast is the great god Pan, To laugh, as he sits by the river, Making a poet out of a man. The true gods sigh for the cost and the pain-- For the reed that grows never more again As a reed with the reeds of the river.
They teach you there's a boundary line to music. But, man, there's no boundary line to art.
Beethoven can write music, thank God, but he can do nothing else on earth.
By and large, jazz has always been like the kind of a man you wouldn't want your daughter to associate with.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: