A Quote by Madame de Stael

Music revives the recollections it would appease. — © Madame de Stael
Music revives the recollections it would appease.

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I'm not saying I wasn't flawed or amateurish. But you can never say I did anything to appease the music business.
What is true and what most folks think is that there is no sound in space. From almost all recollections, I would agree.
So, ask the travelled inhabitant of any nation, in what country on earth would you rather live? — Certainly, in my own, where are all my friends, my relations, and the earliest and sweetest affections and recollections of my life. Which would be your second choice? France.
This is my chance to get out there and appease the fans of my music as well as show people that I do do standup comedy because a lot of people don't know that's where I started.
Keenness of hearing revives when one is alone.
My friends: Music is the language of spirits. Its melody is like the frolicsome breeze that makes the strings quiver with love. When the gentle fingers of Music knock at the door of our feelings, they awaken memories that have long lain hidden in the depths of the Past. The sad strains of Music bring us mournful recollections; and her quiet strains bring us joyful memories. The sound of strings makes us weep at the departure of a dear one, or makes us smile at the peace God has bestowed upon us.
My actual surname is Singh, and I come from a Punjabi Rajput family. Had I wanted to appease voters, then I would have gladly used my real surname.
Nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it.
Exercise not only tones the muscles, but also refines the brain and revives the soul.
I grew up in New York City during the Depression. My earliest recollections were of my parents talking about what they would do if they didn't have the rent money. Luckily, we were never evicted. But my father was unemployed most of the time.
What is patriotism? Is it love of one's birthplace, the place of childhood's recollections and hopes, dreams and aspirations? Is it the place where, in childlike naïveté, we would watch the passing clouds, and wonder why we, too, could not float so swiftly? The place where we would count the milliard glittering stars, terror-stricken lest each one "an eye should be," piercing the very depths of our little souls?
Time had not faded my memories (as I had prayed to God it might), nor had it healed my wounds as it is said always to do. I began each day with the hope that the next day would be better, my recollections a little less pointed, but I would awake to the same pain, as if a black lamp were burning eternally inside me, radiating darkness.
I'm on social media a lot. It kind of revises or revives your career. Because of social media I get pictures and autographs from all over the place. If that wasn't around, people would wonder, "What's Frank Stallone up to?" Now they can just got to YouTube and see a million things. It's quite a bit of fun.
I was like, "Who the hell is Bob Dylan?" I was going to learn one song to appease my mom and alphabetically the first song in the book was "Absolutely Sweet Marie." When I heard it, it was like "Oh, there is something going on here. It's not like my parents' boring music that I don't care about. This is totally electrifying."
I was always into the music. Music, in general, saved my life. But the fame part... I would look up, see what was going on around me, the reporters and photographers and all, and then I would just go back to making my music.
I'd rather call it "instrumental creative music," especially the music that I've been doing. If a person would hear that music, they would undoubtedly call it "jazz." There is this whole generation of musicians that are playing and thinking critically for themselves and making music that's relevant to today. I hope that's the objective of a lot of musicians.
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