During my own gap year, I learned an invaluable lesson - that I was a lousy teacher. Even though the children I 'taught,' in upcountry Uganda, were desperate for qualifications, they largely ignored me. Until, that is, I realised that they wanted to ...
What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.
I strongly encourage listening to the radio to hear something you haven't heard before. It's a very healthy thing to do. It's strange: unless you reload your iPods every couple of weeks, you're listening to and recycling the same music all of the tim...
I've always been a fan of instructional videos. The bass-player ones are insane. The music on them is fascinating. It's not something you hear on CDs or would really ever play in bands. You listen to it and are like, 'What is happening?' It's this bl...
Donald had reached its further edge, and could hear the rush of the stream from the deep obscurity of the abyss below, when there rose from the opposite side a strain of the most delightful music he had ever heard.
I think I'm writing for an intelligent stranger - you know, in my mind I can't remember who coined that phrase first. I don't want to write anything that makes me cringe, first of all. I cringe a lot - mostly when I hear popular music.
'Hound Dog' took like twelve minutes. That's not a complicated piece of work. But the rhyme scheme was difficult. Also the metric structure of the music was not easy. 'Kansas City' was maybe eight minutes, if that. Writing the early blues was spontan...
I am a musician. I didn't know I would be so when I was young. I do know that I have always heard music in my head that I wasn't hearing somewhere else and I 'needed' this music. And obedient to the laws of nature, I created into this vacuum.
I think that American music, for me, it's a synthesis of a lot of different things. But for me growing up in North Carolina, the stuff that I was listening to, the things that I was hearing, it was all about black music, about soul music.
In college, I faced an interesting problem. I wanted to play music all the time and yet I wasn't ready for anyone to hear it. To remedy this, I took to retreating to stairwells as a safe place to sing and write music. It was there that I wrote most o...
I flood the Internet with what I think is quality content. That's why I did things like giving out a song every 100,000 Twitter followers because I am just looking for ways to get my fans to hear all this music without over saturating things.
I hear that 5 o'clock whistle in my mind like Fred Flintstone and I have to stop. I'm also not much of a morning writer. I have a sweet spot from about 11am to 4pm. But I really work during that time.
I'm very proud of being a woman, and as a woman, I don't even like the word 'feminism' because when I hear that word, I associate it with women trying to pretend to be men, and I'm not interested in trying to pretend to be a man. I don't want to embr...
My mom is an actress, but she never really pushed me into it, and it was never something I thought I would be doing. She was very happy I decided to, but she certainly doesn't offer me criticism because she knows I'd tell her to shut up! Nobody wants...
Mortimer Brewster: I probably should have told you this before but, you see, well... insanity runs in my family. [He hears Abby and Martha singing] Mortimer Brewster: It practically gallops!
Ted Striker: [plane loses an engine] The oil pressure. I forgot to check the oil pressure! When Kramer hears about this, the shit's going to hit the fan! [in the office, shit hits a fan and splatters all over the room]
Robbie Turner: I won't say a word. Robbie Turner: Wake me before 7:00, would you? Thanks so much. Robbie Turner: You won't hear another word from me. Promise.
[Vernon catches Bender playing basketball in the gym] Bender: Don't you want to hear my excuse? Richard Vernon: Out. Bender: I'm thinkin' of tryin' out for a scholarship.
Butch Cassidy: You are mine, Etta Place. Mine. You hear me? Mine! All mine! Your soft white flesh is mine. Soft... white... Bleargh.
MIT Student: Can we open up the window, Professor? It's hot in here. John Nash: Your comfort comes second to my ability to hear my own voice.
Lyle: Now, come on, boys! Where's your spirit? I don't hear no singin'. When you was slaves, you sang like birds. Go on, how 'bout a good ol' nigger work song?
