Terms Of Service
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Terms Of Service
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I actually started singing in church when I was about five years old. I remember looking at the choirs and just hearing all of those great big beautiful voices. And there was this one woman who could just wail. And I remember trying to sing like her when I was like going home.
Only the long melancholy call to prayer, or the wail of women over the dead, or the barking of dogs, breaks the silence which at sunset falls as a pall over Baghdad.
I think the drummer should sit back there and play some drums, and never mind about the tunes. Just get up there and wail behind whoever is sitting up there playing the solo. And this is what is lacking, definitely lacking in music today.
You've got to learn your instrument. Then, you practice, practice, practice. And then, when you finally get up there on the bandstand, forget all that and just wail.
I get angry about stuff, I get very emotionally intense about stuff and that's how I get it out - with books, with the band, on my own onstage, but it's always kind of a wail.
The thing that brings people to wail at a wall, or face Mecca, or to go to church, is a search for that feeling of purity.
Michael J. Fox
The drama of life begins with a wail and ends with a sigh.
Rude contact with facts chased my visions and dreams quickly away, and in their stead I beheld the horrors, the corruption, the evils and hypocrisy of society, and as I stood among them, a young wife, a great wail of agony went out from my soul.
As far as I'm concerned, it's no good being able to wail out smokin' leads if your rhythm chops hugg!
Laughter does not deny pain. Laughter - like a wail - acknowledges and replies to pain.
Many Americans don't mourn in public anymore - we don't wear black, we don't beat our chests and wail.
Few of us will forget the wail of mingled grief, rage and horror which rose from the camp when the Indians returned to it and recognized their slaughtered warriors, women, and children.
New York is still the most glamorous city I've ever been to, but it's starting to feel older. The sirens still wail; the paths in Central Park still pulsate with joggers. The Manhattan schist still trembles beneath your feet. But weirdly, it's starting to feel, dare I say it, a bit quaint.
I literally used to stare at my face in the mirror with hate and anger. I'd focus on those gigantic zits and just wail about what a monster I was, how I would never have a career because of my gross skin. I couldn't pass a mirror with out thinking about how hideous my skin was and how I wished I was someone else, someone with perfect skin.
I just finished an episode of a new show called 'Century City.' It's like 'Law & Order' set in the future, and I have a very dramatic role in that. I have to sob and weep and wail. It was very hard. When it was done, I was like, 'OK, time to watch 'SpongeBob!'
I was in the tent when Bobbi Kristina's body was lowered into the ground. Watching her grandmother and her aunt, watching these women not cry but wail - you can't divorce your feelings from some of this stuff.
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