Singing Sands Quotes

I missed all the people and places I didn't know if I would ever see again – my grandparents and their cute little house at Basin Head, where we used to visit the beach everyday and I would run barefoot over the singing sands and swim in the impossibly enormous ocean. ~ Rachael Arsenault

The memory of things gone is important to a jazz musician. Things like old folks singing in the moonlight in the back yard on a hot night or something said long ago. ~ Louis Armstrong

I woke up this morning, smiled at the rising sun. ~ Bob Marley

buttons, and turns out his toes.' [later editions continued as follows When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark, And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark, But, when the tide rises and sharks are around, His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.] 'That's different from what ~ Lewis Carroll

And we will keep searching for our footsteps in the sands of time... ~ Avijeet Das

I regard singing pretty much like acting. Each song is like playing a different role. I get very involved with my material. I feel a responsibility for the emotion it brings out in the listener. ~ Peggy Lee

Charmaine swallowed nervously as she hesitated for a moment, her throat dry, arid and parched like the sands of the desert under the burning sun, grated painfully inside her body as her glands struggled to lubricate her air passages sufficiently. ~ Jill Thrussell

Come forward.
Come in from the summer heat and the flies. Come in from that assault on all senses, that pummelling of rod and cone and drum and cilia. Come in from the great spotlight of the sun, sweeping across the white sands, making everyone, and therefore no one, a star.

Come inside and meet the prologue. ~ Catherynne M Valente

When the cricket's song is the only sound you hear, how peaceful the whole earth seems. ~ Marty Rubin

Well my music was different in high school; I was singing about love - you know, things I don't care about anymore. ~ Lady Gaga

I'm concentrating on singing so much. I don't think of anything else. ~ Tonya Mitchell

Up the still, glistening beaches,
Up the creeks we will hie,
Over banks of bright seaweed
The ebb-tide leaves dry.
We will gaze, from the sand-hills,
At the white, sleeping town;
At the church on the hill-side
And then come back down.
Singing: There dwells a loved one,
But cruel is she!
She left lonely for ever
The kings of the sea.
(from poem 'The Forsaken Merman') ~ Matthew Arnold

I find singing as somebody else very liberating, it just frees me up. ~ Jane Horrocks

Singing and acting on a show is like theater; it doesn't get any better. ~ Shanola Hampton

What a strange power the perception of beauty is! It seems to ebb and flow like some secret tide, independent alike of health and disease, of joy or sorrow. There are times in our lives when we seem to go singing on our way, and when the beauty of the world sets itself like a quiet harmony to the song we uplift. ~ A. C. Benson

When I'm singing a song, I picture somebody in particular. A lot of it is to a guy. ~ Leighton Meester

It constantly amazes me that men and women wander the earth marveling at the highest mountains, the deepest ocean, the whitest sands, the most exotic islands, the most intriguing birds of the air and fish of the sea - and all the time never stop to marvel at themselves and realize their infinite potential as human beings. ~ Matthew Kelly

Nowadays in pop, there's not a lot of men that are singing big and loud and high - it's not as common as it once was. ~ Adam Lambert

Figuring I might entertain myself with heckling, I walked to the bar. I never made it through the door. Instead, I leaned against the doorway, crossed my arms, and enjoyed the spectacle of Raven, Bailey, and Sawyer singing horribly along with Steve Perry.
The three blondes sang their talentless hearts out with Sawyer on a stool in the middle. Bailey wasn't singing as much as yelling to the music. Sawyer was talking the song. Raven though was really trying to sound good. Unfortunately, her sexy voice didn't translate well into song.
The few people in the bar clapped when the song ended. Mainly because Bailey and Raven were hot.
Sawyer ran to the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender nodded and gave her a big glass of root beer. She winked at him and told Bailey to pay the man. The kid was going to rule the world one day. ~ Bijou Hunter

From my spirit's gray defeat, From my pulse's flagging beat, From my hopes that turned to sand Sifting through my close-clenched hand, From my own fault's slavery, If I can sing, I still am free. For with my singing I can make A refuge for my spirit's sake, A house of shining words, to be My fragile immortality. ~ Sara Teasdale

I felt I could turn the earth upside down with my littlest finger. I wanted to dance, to fly in the air and kiss the sun and stars with my singing heart. I, alone with myself, was enjoying myself for the first time as with grandest company. ~ Anzia Yezierska

At the red light, I looked around. Some guy in the next car had his window down and was giving me the once-over. Sometimes I get embarrassed when people catch me singing, particularly when I'm crying at the same time. But today, here, in the first moments of my New Beginning, I didn't give a shit. ~ Lili Wright

There is no seam between my songs and myself-they really are me. It's not like I'm performing; I'm just singing stuff that I really believe. ~ David Friedman

Shakespeare will not allow Falstaff to die upon stage. We see and hear the deaths of Hamlet, Cleopatra, Antony, Othello, and Lear. Iago is led away to die silently under torture. Macbeth dies offstage but he goes down fighting. Falstaff dies singing the Twenty-third Psalm, smiling upon his fingertips, playing with flowers, and crying aloud to God three or four times. That sounds more like pain than prayer.
We do not want Sir John Falstaff to die. And of course he does not. He is life itself. ~ Harold Bloom

The girl's arms glisten in the sunlight like porcelain. "An example," she says.
"Look at the painting," Miss Saeki says. "Just like I did."
White sands of time slip through the girl's slim fingers. Waves crash softly against the shore. They rise up, fall, and break. Rise up, fall, and break. And my consciousness is sucked into a dim, dark corridor. ~ Haruki Murakami

Every Friday we'd do a final practice 'walk-through' for the game, and I just remember we were always out on the field dancing and singing together. ~ William Perry

Decker lifted his eyes skyward, expecting something to happen. He didn't know what, perhaps for the stars overhead to explode into shimmery fireworks, or for the sky to crack open and pour down rain and thunder to mark the moment. But nothing happened. The most important moment of his life arrived not with a bang as he'd always expected, but with the quiet rustle of wind through the trees and a serene breeze brushing his cheeks. ~ Lynsay Sands

Sport and singing may require talent, but passion and determination are enough to make you good at practically anything else. Your mind learns with alacrity and excels at virtually anything if it's interested enough. Every decision should start with criteria set by you; and only thereafter do you look at the options that have satisfied your criteria. Having this attitude is the only way your life becomes your own. ~ Lishen Nair

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. ~ Josh Groban

for us no difference between reading eating singing
making love not one thing or the other ~ Ikkyu

I started off singing when I was little. My parents have said I was singing at 3 years old. So I think it was just something I probably came into this world wanting to do and knowing I was going to do. ~ Brooke Elliott

I actually started singing those songs six or seven years ago, when I was an opening act for Frank Sinatra. ~ Pia Zadora

Why did girls never play air guitar? Did we sing along because singing was what girls did or was it that girls only sang because they didn't play air guitar? These are not questions I asked myself at the time. I was pushing away such complications. ~ Lavinia Greenlaw

I would love to sing. I would love to do a musical, but I wouldn't say that that singing is my strong suit. ~ Channing Tatum

Of course I am thinking the Lord was once young and will never in fact be old.
And who else could this be, who goes off down the green path,
Carrying his sandals, and singing? ~ Mary Oliver

Some stories last many centuries,
others only a moment.
All alter over that lifetime like beach-glass,
grow distant and more beautiful with salt.

Yet even today, to look at a tree
and ask the story Who are you? is to be transformed.

There is a stage in us where each being, each thing, is a mirror.

Then the bees of self pour from the hive-door,
ravenous to enter the sweetness of flowering nettles and thistle.

Next comes the ringing a stone or violin or empty bucket
gives off --
the immeasurable's continuous singing,
before it goes back into story and feeling.

In Borneo, there are palm trees that walk on their high roots.
Slowly, with effort, they lift one leg then another.

I would like to join that stilted transmigration,
to feel my own skin vertical as theirs:
an ant-road, a highway for beetles.

I would like not minding, whatever travels my heart.
To follow it all the way into leaf-form, bark-furl, root-touch,
and then keep walking, unimaginably further. ~ Jane Hirshfield

In college I had a weekend gig at a restaurant, a solo thing that was the best practice I could have ever had. That's where I learned to coordinate my singing and my piano playing. ~ Norah Jones

Singing instrumental music is most important because, while you play an instrument, you are singing through the instrument ... actually, you are singing inside. ~ Ali Akbar Khan

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,
Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle,
Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child, leaving his bed, wander'd
alone, bare-headed, barefoot,
Down from the shower'd halo,
Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if they were alive,
Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
From your memories, sad brother - from the fitful risings and fallings I heard,
From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with tears,
From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the transparent mist,
From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease,
From the myriad thence-arous'd words,
From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
From such, as now they start, the scene revisiting,
As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
Borne hither - ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
A man - yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them - but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing. ~ Walt Whitman

It is beautiful to hear, how even the demons inside me have started singing your name. ~ Akshay Vasu

Singing hallelujah is not fulfilling God's pupose ~ Thabiso Monkoe

There's a kid in the middle of nowhere who's sitting there living for Tony performances. Singing and flipping along with the Pippins, and Wickeds, and Kinkys, Matildas, and Mormons's. So we might reassure that kid, and do something to spur that kid, 'cause I promise you, all of us up here tonight, we were that kid. ~ Neil Patrick Harris

It meant nothing, this song. All my life I'd let other people put so much weight to it, until it was heavy enough to drown me, but it was just music. But even there, locked in the stall, I could still hear it going, those notes I'd known by heart for as long as I could remember, now twisted and different, with another man I hardly knew who had some claim to me, however small, singing the words. ~ Sarah Dessen

The poor soul sat singing by a sycamore tree. Sing all a green willow:
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow:
The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her moans; Sing willow, willow, willow; Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones; Lay by these: Sing willow, willow, willow;
Prithee, hie thee; he'll come anon. ~ William Shakespeare