Quotes about Emotional Resonance

This is why we have music, after all. Words cannot always do the work we need them to. Music is there for when words fail us. Finally

And we sang! Her voice like burning silver, my voice an echoing answer. Savien sang solid, powerful lines, like branches of a rock-old oak, all the while Aloine was like a nightingale, moving in darting circles around the proud limbs of it.

Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woeful small targets. Music touches their hearts directly no matter how small or stubborn the mind of the man who listens.

Cada mujer es como un instrumento, y espera que la entiendan, la amen y la toquen con delicadeza, para por fin hacer sonar su verdadera música.

Cada mujer es como un instrumento, y espera que la entiendan, la amen y la toquen con delicadeza, para por fin hacer sonar su verdadera música. Habrá

Las canciones eligen su momento y su estación. Si tu instrumento suena a lata, suele haber una razón. El tono de una tonada es la voz de tu corazón, y de un pozo enlodazado no sacarás agua clara. Si no dejas que el cieno se asiente, sonarás áspero como rota campana» .

Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woeful small targets.

My mom loved rock 'n roll. My father hated it. We couldn't play it when he was around.

He took twelve pictures that day. Within a few days he showed me the contact sheet. "This one has the magic," he said. When I look at it now, I never see me. I see us.

Images have their way of dissolving and then abruptly returning, pulling along the joy and pain attached to them like tin cans rattling from the back of an old-fashioned wedding vehicle.

Whatever you see has the potential to wound you, to make you less than you are, as if merely by seeing a thing some part of yourself were taken away from you.

Music is like a psychiatrist. You can tell your guitar things that you can't tell people. And it will answer you with things people can't tell you.

that all there is is love. Pity us not. Los Angeles 29 June 1987

Since when has love ever looked for reasons, or evidence? Why would love bow to the reality of things, when it creates a reality of its own, so much more vivid, wherein everything resonates to the key of the heart?

Greek tragedy operates through the ear. It is through the ear primarily that it enters the eyes, the senses, the mind, the heart. It must be spoken aloud. It is designed for that. And until that is done these plays have not been read, have not been used, have not been born.

The books are funny and sad, and that's what people respond to.

This valley was more than my home. It beat in me like the drum of my own heart. Only

Lo colectivo se olvida rápido, solo lo personal e íntimo permanece.

Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory —

Though the sound overpowers, Sing again, with your dear voice revealing A tone Of some world far from ours, Where music and moonlight and feeling Are one.

There are so many things that poetry is about, one of which is memory.

I like him. I have a weakness for losers. Invalids, foreigners, the fat boy of the class, the ones nobody ever wants to dance with. My heart beats for them. Maybe because I've always known that in some way I will forever be one of them.