Scatted Quotes & Sayings

In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. Corinthians, 15:52 — Phillip W. Simpson

Eventually as a teenager, I was pulled up on stage by James Brown's saxophone player, Maceo Parker, during one of his concerts and scatted on his stage for 20 minutes. After I was done, Maceo's bass player got down on one knee as if he were proposing, took a string off of his bass guitar and coiled it up around my ring finger. He hushed the crowd and said into the microphone, "Wendy, from this day forward you are married to music. You have a gift from God. You must devote your life to using this gift or else you will deprive the world of something so special." I got the chills. — Wendy Starland

We can see, so we are always blind to things deeper than skin. — Joe Chung

It's God's will that millions of people are gonna die this year because of some outmoded economic policies? No, it's not! — Thom Yorke

The soul started at the knee-cap and ended at the navel. — Jose Lezama Lima

Too many people today on Wall Street go for the quick
buck at the expense of their reputation and client satisfaction, the
rationale being "let's make the money while we can and retire early
in the sun." For me, this is not a sprint but a marathon, besides the
fact that, in my definition, overnight success is 15 years. Anyone who
does not understand the basic tenets of this philosophy is not someone
I can or will do business with. — Ziad K. Abdelnour

We will always return to the private and inviolable act of reading as our culture's way of developing an individual. — Guy Davenport

Anger was quickly creeping into the areas that mourning hadn't filled — Bernadette Marie

I don't like to talk about things unless I have to. I don't like to talk a scene to death or overanalyze it, especially if I feel like I have some way in on my own. — Katherine Waterston

On the thought a blessed silence came, an empty clarity. He took it a first for utter desolation, but desolation was a type of free fall, perpetual and without ground below. This was stillness: balanced, solid, weirdly serene. No momentum to it at all, forward or backwards or sideways.
He lay drained of tension, not moving, and content to be so. The oddly stretched moment was like a bite of eternity, eaten on the run. Was this quiet place inside something new-grown, or had he just never stumbled upon it before? How could so vast a thing lay undiscovered for so long? His breathing slowed and deepened. — Lois McMaster Bujold