Quotes & Sayings About Singing And Friendship

The only thing that helps me keep my slender grip on reality is the friendship I have with my collection of singing potatoes. — Holly

Here is the easiest way to explain the genius of Johnny Cash: Singing from the perspective of a convicted muderer in the song "Folsom Prison Blues,: Cash is struck by pangs of regret when he sits in his cell and hears a distant train whistle. This is because people on that train are "probably drinkin' coffee." And this is also why Cash seems completely credible as a felon: He doesn't want freedom or friendship or Jesus or a new lawyer. He wants coffee. Within the mind of a killer, complex feeling are eerily simple. This is why killers can shoot men in Reno just to watch them die, and the rest of us usually can't. — Chuck Klosterman

Bruce is still my friend. We don't talk much. We don't have to. He is great and in his own league. I'm not him and he is not me. But we are on similar paths, writing and singing out own kind of songs around the world, along with Bob and a few other singer/songwriters. It is a a silent fraternity of sorts, occupying this space in people's souls with our music. Last year, I lost my right-hand man, the pedal steel guitarist Ben Keith. This year Bruce lost his right-hand man, the saxophonist Clarence Clemons. It's time for another talk; friends can help each other just by being there. Now both of us will look to our right and see a giant hole, a memory, the past and the future. I won't play with another steel player trying to recreate Ben's parts, and I know Bruce won't play with another sax man trying to play Clarence's. Those parts are not going to happen again. They already did. That takes a lot out of our repertoires. — Neil Young

If I'm not around
I hope you'll remember me
and together we will hold on to our favorite song. — Sanober Khan

Where there's more of singing and less of sighing,
Where there's more of giving and less of buying,
And a man makes friends without half trying
That's where the West begins. — Arthur Chapman

Her fierce and fearful friend
who loved country music and cherry Pop Tarts and singing in public and the color pink, who was terrified of germs and dogs and ladders. — Lauren Oliver

A moment of happiness,
you and I sitting on the verandah,
apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.
We feel the flowing water of life here,
you and I, with the garden's beauty
and the birds singing.
The stars will be watching us,
and we will show them
what it is to be a thin crescent moon.
You and I unselfed, will be together,
indifferent to idle speculation, you and I.
The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar
as we laugh together, you and I.
In one form upon this earth,
and in another form in a timeless sweet land. — Rumi

See, some people politely encourage their tone-deaf friends to sing. Some people even convince them to go on live television and audition for national competitions. But me? I am not that friend. — Sarah Ockler

She was a fascinating character, to say the least. A pioneer and instigator of many weird and wooly projects and who liked to "instigate" you right along with her. Every village has one, and Doris was ours. A lively individual who was always throwing herself into some harebrained scheme or other, taking no prisoners as she pulled you into her wild world of wackiness. Doris's "urgent" could mean anything from the need to raise money for lame goats to singing at the top of a living Christmas tree. — Suzanne Kelman

O Spirit of the Summertime! Bring back the roses to the dells; The swallow from her distant clime, The honey-bee from drowsy cells. Bring back the friendship of the sun; The gilded evenings, calm and late, When merry children homeward run, And peeping stars bid lovers wait. Bring back the singing; and the scent Of meadowlands at dewy prime;- Oh, bring again my heart's content, Thou Spirit of the Summertime! — William Allingham

LET'S GIVE THE WORLD TO THE CHILDREN
Let's give the world to the children just for one day
like a balloon in bright and striking colours to play with
let them play singing among the stars
let's give the world to the children
like a huge apple like a warm loaf of bread
at least for one day let them have enough
let's give the world to the children
at least for one day let the world learn friendship
children will get the world from our hands
they'll plant immortal trees — Nazim Hikmet

He had his eyes closed and
rocked himself so much that everyone thought he would
soon crash to the ground. And then it happened. He
crashed to the ground. Surprised, he lay on the ground
on his side, not sure what had happened, looking around.
Next he jumped up and listened to Matica's singing again,
starting to rock himself once more. His eyes closed slowly,
his beak opened. And then he crashed to the ground a second
time. This time he kept lying down, spreading his free
wing up into the air and waving it to the tune of the melody.
Strange sounds came out of his beak. It was a grunt
but more than a grunt, as if he was really enjoying himself,
as if he would follow Matica's words and would sing
or hum as well. — Gigi Sedlmayer

The familiar (if loud) churn of the engine made it hard to talk, especially with the windows open (the air-conditioning didn't work), but the day was warm and they blasted the music and sang along. Nessa loved singing at full volume. She couldn't carry a tune, but with Bree it didn't matter. — C.D. Bell