A Quote by Hope Partlow

My parents were in the studio when we cut 'Let Me Try' and every time I sang it they started crying, ... I finally had to ask them to leave because I couldn't sing it while they were crying.
I remember when I was that girl crying because I was so excited to finally meet Lita. To have girls crying over me is surreal.
I always knew I would sing. I just didn't know if I would be successful or not. But I sang at school, I sang at parties, I sang at church. Everyone always asked me to sing. I'd be playing football with my friends and my parents would ask me to sing for their guests. I was never very happy about that because I wanted to play football.
I always knew I would sing. I just didn't know if I would be successful or not. But I sang at school, I sang at parties, I sang at church. Everyone always asked me to sing. I'd be playing football with my friends, and my parents would ask me to sing for their guests. I was never very happy about that because I wanted to play football.
Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.
Some of our German passengers on the ship would be crying. The Brits were the same way. They were crying, because they realized a new war was about to break out across Europe, with Hitler at the head of the goose-stepping parade.
I'll never forget the first moment I stepped on a Broadway stage. It was in Grease, and I knew it was momentous. My parents were there, and I got into a cab with them afterward and started crying.
When I was seven, I sang 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow' in assembly and the teachers were crying because it was so emotional!
In high school, I had two friends that were suffering from cancer. I would go and sing for them while they were in hospital, and I sang at their services after they passed.
The release of 'Lungs' was so hard. It was terrifying, because it was the first time doing everything. The first experiences of media exposure were almost paralysing. I spent a lot of time crying on the floor of the studio - it sent me a bit mad.
Before you lost your mind, how did you make a living?" "I was a hitman for the Mafia. Are you done crying yet?" "I wasn't crying! And I wish you were a hitman because, if I had money, I'd hire you right this minute to knock yourself off.
Writing is a very intimate thing, especially when you write lyrics and sing them in front of someone for the first time. It's like a really embarrassing situation. To me, singing is almost like crying, and you have to really know someone before you can start crying in front of them.
I wasn't crying about mothers," he said rather indignantly. "I was crying because I can't get my shadow to stick on. Besides, I wasn't crying.
When Armaan sang his first song for Vishal Dadlani, he didn't know that they were making Daboo Malik's son sing. He went inside the studio when he was 10-11, sang a scratch and it went on to be part of 'Bhoothnath.' He didn't get the opportunity because he was so and so's kid.
Crying can help, too. People are often afraid to cry because they are told that crying is for babies. Crying does not make you a baby, no matter what anyone says. There are times when people feel so bad that they can't express their feelings in words. At those times, crying helps.
I don't think I'd be a party girl [even if I were] in college. When I was in high school, I remember seeing girls crying in the bathroom every Monday about what they did at a party that weekend. I never wanted to be that girl crying in the bathroom. But there are certain things that I would like to do but can't. Sometimes I don't get invited to things because my friends know it's going to be a hassle to take me.
Each day brought just another minute of the things they could not leave behind. Jane Barrington sitting on the train coming back to Leningrad from Moscow, holding on to her son, knowing she had failed him, crying for Alexander, wanting another drink, and Harold, in his prison cell, crying for Alexander, and Yuri Stepanov on his stomach in the mud in Finland, crying for Alexander, and Dasha in the truck, on the Ladoga ice, crying for Alexander, and Tatiana on her knees in the Finland marsh, screaming for Alexander, and Anthony, alone with his nightmares, crying for his father.
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