A Quote by D'Angelo

I don't know what scared me about Marvin Gaye. I just know that he was scary, and that all of his... his aura was frightening to me. I can't explain why. — © D'Angelo
I don't know what scared me about Marvin Gaye. I just know that he was scary, and that all of his... his aura was frightening to me. I can't explain why.
I actually get a lot of messages with people saying, 'What's a Marvin Gaye?' and, I mean... Oh, wow. I must be getting old, because someone who was born in 2004 just asked me what a Marvin Gaye was.
Marvin Gaye is an inspiration to me. He was one of the first Motown musicians that my mom and dad introduced me to, and I always thought it would be a good idea if I was ever an artist, and now I am, to make a record called 'Marvin Gaye.'
I was raised on Marvin Gaye. Before I knew Babyface or anyone else, I knew Marvin Gaye. My mother played Marvin Gaye.
Marvin Gaye is one of my favorite revolutionaries. He spoke from his heart, his mind. That's what I want to do.
I was a big fan of Marvin Gaye, and when my parents were at work, I would get in front of the mirror, put my father's clothes on and pretend I was singing Marvin Gaye songs.
Here's a strange fact: murder a man, and you feel responsible for his life - ''possessive'', even. You know more about him than his father and mother; they knew his fetus, but you know his corpse. Only you can complete the story of his life, only you know why his body has to be pushed into the fire before its time, and why his toes curl up and fight for another hour on earth.
I am graven on the palms of His hands. I am never out of His mind. All my knowledge of Him depends on His sustained initiative in knowing me. I know Him, because He first knew me, and continues to know me. He knows me as a friend, One who loves me; and there is no moment when His eye is off me, or His attention distracted for me, and no moment, therefore, when His care falters.
Brian Owens is a young guy from Ferguson, Missouri, my hometown, who I don't think emulates me at all, but I really enjoy his particular style. He kind of makes me think of the older school of soul singers like Sam Cooke, Marvin Gaye.
I don't know if anyone's ever told you this", he begins. He doesn't blush, and his eyes don't dart away. Instead I find myself starring into a pair of oceans - one perfect, the other blemished by that tiny ripple. "You're very attractive." I've been complimented on my appearance before. But never in his tone of voice. Of all the things he's said, I don't know why this catches me off guard. But it startles me so much that without thinking I blurt out, "I could say the same about you." I pause. "In case you didn't know." A slow grin spreads across his face. "Oh, trust me. I know.
Dabbling with Tagore was always scary. It happens with masters, with contemporary poets you know their vibes and their meaning. Tagore was different; his aura and the feel of his language was different.
I would love to play Janis Gaye in the Marvin Gaye story. If they ever do the Marvin Gaye story, I would love to play Janis - just throwing that out there.
The thing most frightening about Donald Trump is he doesn't know what he doesn't know and doesn't seem to care about what he doesn't know, and as a result of that, he doesn't know what the consequences of his actions might be.
You don't have to say it out loud. I already know why you like me.' 'You do, huh?' 'Yep.' He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. 'So,' I said. 'Tell me' 'It's an animal attraction,' he said simply. 'Totally chemical.' 'Hmm,' I said. 'You could be right.' 'It doesn't matter, anyway, why you like me.' 'No?' 'Nope.' His hands were in my hair now, and I was leaning in, not able to totally make out his face, but his voice was clear, close to my ear. 'Just that you do.
When Marvin Gaye made his music, he evoked this feeling that would reach everybody.
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,- When he beats his bars and would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core, But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings- I know why the caged bird sings!
At least there's nothing scary about him and hopefully he doesn't see anything scary in me. We go way back, to summer camp. We KNOW each other. People I don't know just make me want to say YIKES! I'll take history over mystery any day of the week.
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