A Quote by Shefali Shah

I don't know whether it is a boon or a bane but I can't act. I can just be. To me, that's the beauty of a performance. Otherwise, there is a falsetto, which sounds jarring.
I'm a natural baritone, so I had challenges in that middle range, which would be that tenor area, singing in my natural voice. And I worked on that. But basically the falsetto thing, I didn't even know it was a falsetto until a music teacher commented on it, that I had a very nice falsetto. I didn't even know what it was. I said, 'Oh, OK.'
Behold this little Bane- The Boon of all alive- As common as it is unknown The name of it is Love.
A family can be the bane of one's existence. A family can also be most of the meaning of one's existence. I don't know whether my family is bane or meaning, but they have surely gone away and left a large hole in my heart.
I think I prefer singing in falsetto. I like the way it sounds. It doesn't sound like my natural voice. It sounds like a character.
Beauty inspires me - beauty in nature, people, and art. Smells and fragrances too. I know it sounds weird, but I'm a "fume head." I'm very olfactory-driven.
I think the best piece of advice that I would give is beauty is really just - I know it sounds cheesy - being true to who you are. Beauty is not something that is acquired necessarily through like makeup or clothing.
Women, you overheated dipsomaniacs, never passing up a chance to wangle a drink, a great boon to bartenders but a bane to us--not to mention our crockery and our woolens!
Ah, then, upon my bedroom I do draw The blind to hide the garden, where the moon Enjoys the open blossoms as they straw Their beauty for his taking, boon for boon. And I do lift my aching arms to you, And I do lift my anguished, avid breast, And I do weep for very pain of you, And fling myself at the doors of sleep, for rest.
Maybe the truth does not matter, but I want to know it if only so that I can come to some conclusions about such questions as: whether he is angry with me or not; if he is, then how angry; whether he still loves me or not; if he does, then how much; whether he loves me or not; how much; how capable he is of deceiving me in the act and after the act in the telling.
The beauty of performance for me is finding details with which to betray character.
May it not be asked of every intelligent friend to the liberties of his country, whether the power exercised in such an act as this ought not to produce great and universal alarm? Whether a rigid execution of such an act, in time past, would not have repressed that information and communication among the people which is indispensable to the just exercise of their electoral rights? And whether such an act, if made perpetual, and enforced with rigor, would not, in time to come, either destroy our free system of government, or prepare a convulsion that might prove equally fatal to it?
I'm not against beauty; it just sounds boring to me.
I'm not against beauty, it just sounds boring to me.
I really want to act and act in great roles, which have scope of performance.
If you've ever sang in falsetto, you know that your throat is between your voice and your mouth. In a standard voice, you sing from your belly. And when you sing in a falsetto, you're blocking that. It gives it a filter. It gives it a character. It's less revealing.
Augustus: “You probably need some rest.” Me: “I’m okay.” Augustus: “Okay.” (Pause.) “What are you thinking about?” Me: “You.” Augustus: “What about me?” Me: “‘I do not know which to prefer, / The beauty of inflections / Or the beauty of innuendos, / The blackbird whistling / Or just after.’” Augustus: “God, you are sexy.” Me: “We could go to your room.” Augustus: “I’ve heard worse ideas.
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