singing

Ask Nureyev to stop dancing, ask Sinatra to stop singing, then you can ask me to stop playing.

—King, BillieJean ne¤  e Moffitt

Everyone suddenly burst out singing; And I was filled with such delight As prisoned birds must find in freedom,

—Sassoon, Siegfried Louvain

Make a joyful noise unto the L, all ye lands. Serve the L with gladness: come before his presence with singing. Know ye that the L he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

—Bible (Old Testament)

There is delight in singing, tho'none hear Beside the singer.

—Landor,Walter Savage

Horse riding is a perfect comparison with singing.You must know where the double fences are.

—Pavarotti, Luciano

Morning has broken Like the first morning, Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird. Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning! Praise for them springing Fresh from the Word!

—Farjeon, Eleanor

My soul is an enchanted boat, Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing.

—Shelley, Percy Bysshe

my father moved through dooms of love through sames of am through haves of give, singing each morning out of each night my father moved through depths of height

—cummings, e e pen name of  Edward Estlin Cummings

I'll walk down the lane with a happy refrain And singin' just singin' in the rain.

—Freed, Arthur pseudonym of  Arthur Grossman

Here with a loaf of bread beneath the bough, A flask of wine, a book of verseöand Thou Beside me singing in the wildernessö And wilderness is paradise enow.

—Fitzgerald, Edward

The exercise of singing isdelightful tonatureandgood to preserve the health of Man.

—Byrd,William

You know whatta you do when you shit? Singing, it's the same thing, only up!

—Caruso, Enrico

Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely.

—Scott, Sir Walter

Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

—Shelley, Percy Bysshe

Through breaks of the cedar and sycamore bowers Struggles the light that is love to the flowers; And, softer than slumber and sweeter than singing, The notes of the bell-birds are running and ringing. The silver-voiced bell-birds, the darlings of daytime! They sing in September their songs of the May-time.

—Kendall, Henry Clarence