A Quote by John Densmore

When Dudamel is up on the podium, he truly is 'inside' the music. It courses in his veins, mixing with his blood. — © John Densmore
When Dudamel is up on the podium, he truly is 'inside' the music. It courses in his veins, mixing with his blood.
And in vain does the dreamer rummage about in his old dreams, raking them over as though they were a heap of cinders, looking into these cinders for some spark, however tiny, to fan it into a flame so as to warm his chilled blood by it and revive in it all that he held so dear before, all that touched his heart, that made his blood course through his veins, that drew tears from his eyes, and that so splendidly deceived him!
Ilaiyaraaja is my most favourite music director. His music was my lullaby, his music was my food, his music was my childhood, his music was my first love, his music was my failure, his music was my first kiss, my first love failure, my success... he is in my blood.
Sharley felt his strength ebbing away, and his weak leg throbbed painfully, but then a tingling sensation thrilled through his frame and the fighting blood of the Lindenshield clan began to roar through his veins. He drew breath and out crashed the war cry of the icemark.
Habits are to the soul what the veins and arteries are to the blood, the courses in which it moves
For what endless years this life will have to go on! He felt, with a kind of horror, his own strong youth and the bounding blood in his veins.
The weapon of suicide bombing is so desperate that you aren't even left with the possibility of taking revenge or punishing anyone; the terrorist is killed along with his victims, his blood mixing with theirs
The weapon of suicide bombing is so desperate that you aren't even left with the possibility of taking revenge or punishing anyone; the terrorist is killed along with his victims, his blood mixing with theirs.
There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Immanuel's Veins. And those plunged beneath that watery grave to drink of His blood will never be the same.
My blood in his veins." ~Jace
Being In Love Means hard questions. Will I? Won't I? Should I? Could I? Yes? No? You? Me? There is no me without you. Is there a you without me? And if were truly one. how will I breathe when circomstance pries us apart? You are my oxygen. my substance, the blood inside my veins. When we touch, you are my skin. hold all my joy inside of you. When you go, I wither.
Cowards never won heaven. Do not claim that you are begotten of God and you have His royal blood running in your veins unless you can prove your lineage by His heroic spirit: to dare to be holy in spite of men and devils.
And just like that, something inside shifted very subtly, so that all the empty spaces in him suddenly disappeared, so that his breath timed to hers, so that his blood sang. This is why there was music, he realized. There were some feelings that just didn’t have words big enough to describe them.
He was afraid that the secrets she'd kept would always be here, inside him, an ugly malignant thing lodged near enough to his heart to upset its rhythm, and though it could be removed, cut out, there would always be scars; bits and pieces of it would remain in his blood, making it wrong somehow, so that if he accidentally sliced his skin open, his blood would--for one heartbeat--flow as black as India ink before it remembered that it should be red.
Still, I'd do anything for him. Even smear his clotting blood inside the vehicle of his choosing.
Prince Harry is a great guy, very competitive; he's been playing polo all his life. Riding is in his blood. His grandmother loves horses, his grandfather played polo, his father played polo, his brother plays polo, so it's in his blood. He likes to play hard, we joke about it and it's great.
Write about this man who, drop by drop, squeezes the slave's blood out of himself until he wakes one day to find the blood of a real human being--not a slave's--coursing through his veins.
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