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Music is love in search of a word.
Sidney Lanier
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Sidney Lanier
Age: 39 †
Born: 1842
Born: February 3
Died: 1881
Died: September 7
Hymnwriter
Musician
Poet
Writer
Macon
Georgia
Piano
Search
Jazz
Angel
Musical
Word
Music
Love
More quotes by Sidney Lanier
When I hear music, it seems to me that all the sins of my life pass slowly by me with veiled faces, lay their hands on my head, and say softly, My child.
Sidney Lanier
O Trade, O Trade! Would thou wert dead!The time needs heart - 'tis tired of head.
Sidney Lanier
Let my name perish, -- the poetry is good poetry and the music is good music, and beauty dieth not, and the heart that needs it will find it.
Sidney Lanier
If you want to be found stand where the seeker seeks.
Sidney Lanier
Ye marshes, how candid and simple and nothing-withholding and free, Ye publish yourselves to the sky and offer yourselves to the sea.
Sidney Lanier
Death lieth still in the way of life, Like as a stone in the way of a brook I will sing against thee, Death, as the brook does, I will make thee into music which does not die.
Sidney Lanier
Music is love searching for a word.
Sidney Lanier
Leap through the Mystery of death as the circus-rider leaps through the papered hoop ... find Life ambling along beneath us on the Other Side.
Sidney Lanier
Look out, Death: I am coming.-Art thou not glad? what talks we'll have.-What memories of old battles.-Come, bring the bowl, Death I am thirsty.
Sidney Lanier
Virtues are acquired through endeavor, which rests wholly upon yourself.
Sidney Lanier
I will fly in the greatness of God as the marsh-hen flies, In the freedom that fills all the space 'twixt the marsh and the skies.
Sidney Lanier
My priciple is, the artist shall put forth, humbly & lovingly, without bitterness, the very best & highest that is within him,utterly regardless of contemporary criticism.
Sidney Lanier
Into the woods, my Master went, Clean forspent, forspent, Into the woods my Master came, Forspent with love and shame. But the olives they were not blind to Him, The little gray leaves were kind to Him: The thorn-tree had a mind to Him, When into the woods He came.
Sidney Lanier
Gradually I find that my whole soul is merging itself into this business of writing, and especially of writing poetry. I am going to try it and am going to test, in the most rigid way I know, the awful question whether it is my vocation.
Sidney Lanier
Verse is a set of specially related sounds, repeated aloud.
Sidney Lanier