The thing that influenced me most was the way Tommy played his trombone.... It was my idea to make my voice work in the same way as a trombone or violin not sounding like them, but playing the voice like those instrumentalists.
Let us go singing as far as we go the road will be less tedious.
Why that would be like challenging Bing Crosby to a singing contest, wouldn't it?
Love, I find, is like singing. Everybody can do enough to satisfy themselves, though it may not impress the neighbors as being very much.
That eagle's fate and mine are one, Which on the shaft that made him die Espied a feather of his own, Wherewith he wont to soar so high.
The hours I spend with you I look upon as sort of a perfumed garden, a dim twilight, and a fountain singing to it. You and you alone make me feel that I am alive. Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.
Rejoice! Ye fields, rejoice! And wave with gold, When August round her precious gifts is flinging; Lo! The crushed wain is slowly homeward rolled: The sunburnt reapers jocund lays are singing.
Jerry I will not rest until I have you holding a Coke, wearing your own shoe, playing a Sega game *featuring you*, while singing your own song in a new commercial, *starring you*, broadcast during the Superbowl, in a game that you are winning, and I will not *sleep* until that happens.
Christmas night, stars shine bright, and all the angels are singing. 'The Son of God is Born' Little child, holy child, how I want to be near you, this blessed Christmas night.
Singing. I was singing! Uhura
Let us go singing as far as we go: the road will be less tedious.
Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war.
A cap of good acid costs five dollars and for that you can hear the Universal Symphony with God singing solo and the Holy Ghost on drums.
His house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking, best, or a pleasant mixture of them all.
In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing, Which speaks to my spirit of thee.