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If my serenade of song and story should serve as a pillow for some composer's head, as yet perhaps unborn, to dream and build on our fond melodies in his tomorrow, I have not labored in vain.
William Christopher Handy
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William Christopher Handy
Age: 84 †
Born: 1873
Born: November 16
Died: 1958
Died: March 29
Autobiographer
Composer
Jazz Musician
Music Journalist
Musician
Non-Fiction Writer
Pianist
Songwriter
Trumpeter
Florence
Alabama
W.C. Handy
W C Handy
WC Handy
Father of the Blues
William Christopher Handy
Stories
Serve
Labored
Build
Melodies
Tomorrow
Unborn
Perhaps
Fond
Head
Pillow
Story
Composer
Song
Melody
Dream
Vain
More quotes by William Christopher Handy
My big ears indicated a talent for music. This thrilled me.
William Christopher Handy
The name of my ailment was longing, and it was not cured till I finally went to the department store and counted out the money in small coins before the dismayed clerk. When I came to the house, I held up the instrument before the eyes of the astonished household.
William Christopher Handy
I knew the whistle of each of the river boats on the Tennessee.
William Christopher Handy
Nature was my kindergarten.
William Christopher Handy
Whenever I heard the song of a bird and the answering call of its mate, I could visualize the notes in scale, all built up within my consciousness as a natural symphony.
William Christopher Handy
In the South of long ago whenever a new man appeared for work in any of the laborers gangs, he would be asked if he could sing. If he could he got the job. The singing of these working men set the rhythm for the work.
William Christopher Handy
You've got to appreciate the things that come from the art of the Negro and from the heart of the man farthest down.
William Christopher Handy
You'll never miss the water 'til the well runs dry.
William Christopher Handy
Saving was slow and painful.
William Christopher Handy
Life is like a trumpet - if you don't put anything into it, you don't get anything out of it.
William Christopher Handy
Where the Tennessee River, like a silver snake, winds her way through the clay hills of Alabama, sits high on these hills, my home town, Florence.
William Christopher Handy
Setting my mind on a musical instrument was like falling in love. All the world seemed bright and changed.
William Christopher Handy
You can never tell what's in a woman's mind, And if she's from Harlem, there's no use o' tryin
William Christopher Handy
The blues - the sound of a sinner on revival day.
William Christopher Handy
Sometimes I feel like nothin,' somethin' throwed away, Somethin' throwed away. And then I get my guitar, play the blues all day.
William Christopher Handy
I think America concedes that true American music has sprung from the Negro.
William Christopher Handy
With a guitar I would be able to express the things I felt in sounds.
William Christopher Handy
I hate to see the evening sun go down.
William Christopher Handy
