Over 40,000 Famous Quotes Sorted By Topic and Author

But Bellenden we needs must praise, Who as down the stairs she jumps Sings o'er the hill and far away, Despising doleful dumps. - Unattributed Author,

Tom he was a piper's son, He learned to play when he was young; Bug all the tune that he could play Was "Over the hills and far away." - Unattributed Author,

Music religious heat inspires, It wakes the soul, and lifts it high, And wings it with sublime desires, And fits it to bespeak the Deity.

he music's pure algebra of enchantment.

Music exalts each joy, allays each grief, Expels diseases, softens every pain, Subdues the rage of poison, and the plague.

That rich celestial music thrilled the air From hosts on hosts shining ones, who thronged Eastward and westward, making bright the night.

Music tells no truths.

Everything will past, and the world will perish but the Ninth Symphony will remain.

Rugged the breast that music cannot tame.

If music and sweet poetry agree.

Gayly the troubadour Touched his guitar.

I'm saddest when I sing.

Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the cornerstone thereof; When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?

We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.

God is its author, and not man; he laid The key-note of all harmonies; he planned All perfect combinations, and he made Us so that we could hear and understand.

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 hath charms to soothe the savage beast," And therefore proper at a sheriff's feast.

And sure there is music even in the beauty, and the silent note which Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the sound of an instrument; for there is music wherever there is harmony, order, or proportion; and thus far we may maintain the music of the spheres.

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.

Her voice, the music of the spheres, So loud, it deafens mortals' ears; As wise philosophers have thought, And that's the cause we hear it not.