Gossipers are the devil's trumpeters.
I played trumpet in school once because I joined band because a cute boy played trumpet too. And I was really bad at trumpet.
Death does not blow a trumpet.
Death does not sound a trumpet.
Buy on the cannons, sell on the trumpets.
Rich gamblers and old trumpeters are rare.
Safety is all well and good: I prefer freedom.
Mitzi: [about Trumpet] , You know, I never heard him play. Bernadette: Play? He didn't *play*, dear. Trumpet didn't have a single musical bone in his body. No, Trumpet had an unusually large foreskin. So large, in fact, that he could wrap the entire ...
And my dad wanted me to play the trumpet because that's what he liked. His idol was Louis Armstrong. My dad thought my teeth came together in a way that was perfect for playing the trumpet.
I played trumpet in middle school, and then I had to get braces, so I had to stop playing trumpet and start playing drums.
You know, the ukulele itself is not a very loud instrument, all right? And, you know, compared to like a trumpet, right? A trumpet is really loud.
After I learned the piano, I went on to learn percussion, the tuba, b-flat baritone, French horn, trombone, trumpet, most of the instruments in the orchestra. Trumpet was my instrument.
I don't just play the trumpet because it's something that resonates with me: I play the trumpet because I realize it's a means to help free a lot of people that ain't free.
A trumpet sounds pretty much like a trumpet, and that's true of a lot instruments; pianos sound like pianos, but there's something about the guitar - the range of possibilities is much broader.
I used to look at these pictures of trumpeters pointing their instrument to the ceiling. Stunning pictures, but if you play the trumpet and point it upwards, all the spit comes back into your mouth!
[last lines] 'Pops', the Shopkeeper: [returning his pawned trumpet] A good story's worth more than an old trumpet. Max: Okay Pops.
Well, my sister played trumpet. Can you imagine having a sister blowing the trumpet around the house, Fred? And my brother, he played piano. Everybody was playing some kind of music, so it was natural for me to get into it.
It is founded on the worst instincts of mankind. At its best, it is intolerant and bigoted. At its worst, it is sadistic and brutal. Between these two poles it has its existence.
My hearing has suffered seriously; just now I am obliged to have the assistance of an ear trumpet. Think of that, my beauty! - There 's a state for your old Lover to be in! - No more tender whisperings! Imagine sweet confessions to be made through an...
I hate the natural sound of the trumpet, but I think I'm naturally set up to be a trumpet player. I know that sounds weird. But pretty much anytime I play a note, I'm uncomfortable in a general sense.
That was the Old Man’s favorite song. “Blow Ye Trumpet.” Them Negroes was far away from the doings on the plaza where the Old Man was to hang, way out from it. But they sang it loud and clear…. Blow ye trumpet blow Blow ye trumpet blow…. Yo...
