#pia

Frank liked me because I went nuts on the piano using feet, head, whatever I could find to bang on the piano. ↗

— George Duke

#because #could #feet #find #frank

I’m busy, you’re busy, everybody’s busy. I’ve got a lot I want to say to you, though.” “All right,” Pia told her. “Hit me with it.” “First, I’m so sorry about what my uncle Urien did to you guys. I hate him, he killed my family, and we’re going to cut off his head, and then I have to be Queen, but before that happens let’s do lunch, okay? ↗

— Thea Harrison

#pia #tricks #business

We grew up founding our dreams on the infinite promise of American advertising. I still believe that one can learn to play the piano by mail and that mud will give you a perfect complexion. ↗

— Zelda Fitzgerald

#american #believe #complexion #dreams #founding

I see the player piano as the grandfather of the computer, the ancestor of the entire nightmare we live in, the birth of the binary world where there is no option other than yes or no and where there is no refuge. ↗

— William Gaddis

#birth #computer #entire #grandfather #i

I sit down and create atmospheres, start playing guitar or piano and just sing whatever comes out of my mouth. ↗

— Martin Gore

#comes #create #down #guitar #i

That is basically me, and although I have done many things in my life - conducting, playing piano, and so on - what is fundamental is my being a composer. ↗

— Morton Gould

#basically #being #composer #conducting #done

I never took guitar lessons. I took classical piano lessons from the age of six when we lived in Holland. ↗

— Eddie Van Halen

#classical #guitar #guitar lessons #holland #i

He was digging in his garden--digging, too, in his own mind, laboriously turning up the substance of his thought. Death--and he drove in his spade once, and again, and yet again. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools they way to dusty death. A convincing thunder rumbled through the words. He lifted another spadeful of earth. Why had Linda died? Why had she been allowed to become gradually less than human and at last... He shuddered. A good kissing carrion. He planted his foot on his spade and stamped it fiercely into the tough ground. As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kills us for their sport. Thunder again; words that proclaimed themselves true--truer somehow than truth itself. And yet that same Gloucester had called them ever-gentle gods. Besides, thy best of rest is sleep, and that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st thy death which is no more. No more than sleep. Sleep. Perchance to dream. His spade struck against a stone; he stooped to pick it up. For in that sleep of death, what dreams...? ↗

— Aldous Huxley

#hamlet #shakespeare #death

I taught myself to play the piano. I've always been able to play, the minute I could get my hands up. I've always wanted to play the piano. It's the only instrument I've ever really liked, and it's the only one that's ever interested me. ↗

— Jerry Hunt

#always #been #could #ever #get

I totally related to Cole Porter's magnetic pull to any piano that was in the room, which he was famous for doing, as was Gershwin. You couldn't drag them away from a piano. ↗

— Kevin Kline

#away #cole #doing #drag #famous