The blues - the sound of a sinner on revival day.
William Christopher Handy
Life is something like a trumpet. If you don't put anything in, you won't get anything out.
life
Life is like a trumpet - if you don't put anything into it, you don't get anything out of it.
The name of my ailment was longing, and it was not cured till I finally went to the department store and counted out the money in small coins before the dismayed clerk. When I came to the house, I held up the instrument before the eyes of the astonished household.
money
You've got to appreciate the things that come from the art of the Negro and from the heart of the man farthest down.
man art
Nature was my kindergarten.
nature
Setting my mind on a musical instrument was like falling in love. All the world seemed bright and changed.
mind
I think America concedes that true American music has sprung from the Negro.
music
My big ears indicated a talent for music. This thrilled me.
talent music
sound
With a guitar I would be able to express the things I felt in sounds.
I knew the whistle of each of the river boats on the Tennessee.
boats
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