Nowadays what isn’t worth saying is sung.
Christian: Do you like Billie Holiday?
Cher: I love him!
Salieri: While my father prayed earnestly to God to protect commerce, I would offer up secretly the proudest prayer a boy could think of: “Lord, make me a great composer. Let me celebrate Your glory through music and be celebrated myself. Make me famous through the world, dear God. Make me immortal. After I die, let people speak my name forever with love for what I wrote. In return, I will give You my chastity, my industry, my deepest humility, every hour of my life. Amen”. And do you know what happened? A miracle!
Salieri: On the page it looked nothing. The beginning simple, almost comic. Just a pulse – bassoons and basset horns – like a rusty squeezebox. Then suddenly – high above it – an oboe, a single note, hanging there unwavering, till a clarinet took over and sweetened it into a phrase of such delight! This was no composition by a performing monkey! This was a music I’d never heard. Filled with such longing, such unfulfillable longing, it had me trembling. It seemed to me that I was hearing a voice of God.
“Yes it is,” said the Professor. “Wait—” he motioned to Richard, who was about to go out again and investigate— “let it be. It won’t be long.”
Richard stared in disbelief. “You say there’s a horse in your bathroom, and all you can do is stand there naming Beatles songs?”
Rizzo the Rat: Mother always taught me: never eat singing food.
Sam: ‘Greased Lightning’ is my cell phone ringtone and I’ve been knocked out by a car door before, so I was really looking forward to recreating the reality of that moment on stage.
Charlie Brown: Well, there’s only one thing wrong with that.
Linus van Pelt: What’s that, Charlie Brown?
Charlie Brown: My grandmother lives in a condominium.
Who hears music feels his solitude
Peopled at once.
Raul: This is outrageous. Where are the armed men who come in to take the protestors away? Where are they? This kind of behavior is never tolerated in Baraqua. You shout like that they put you in jail. Right away. No trial, no nothing. Journalists, we have a special jail for journalists. You are stealing: right to jail. You are playing music too loud: right to jail, right away. Driving too fast: jail. Slow: jail. You are charging too high prices for sweaters, glasses: you right to jail. You undercook fish? Believe it or not, jail. You overcook chicken, also jail. Undercook, overcook. You make an appointment with the dentist and you don’t show up, believe it or not, jail, right away. We have the best patients in the world because of jail.
Dave (singing in the shower):
Hail to the chief
He’s the one we all say “Hail” to.
We all say “Hail”
‘Cause he keeps himself so clean!
He’s got the power,
That’s why he’s in the shower…
Leela: Impressive. They’re busting mad rhymes with an 80% success rate.
Phil: I think concerts are rad. Hello, I was a hall-raiser!
Haley: A what?
Phil: I followed Hall & Oates around the country one summer. “Rich Girl” just spoke to me; I was dating this girl – not dating, I guess I was following her too, kind of.
Brenda Morgenstern: Vince, this is so much trouble you go to. I mean, why lug your accordion all the way here when I can just put on some records or something?
Vince Mazuma: Well, I thought it would turn you on.
God sent his Singers upon earth
With songs of sadness and of mirth,
That they might touch the hearts of men,
And bring them back to heaven again.
Tom: In memory everything seems to happen to music.
Over the piano was printed a notice: Please do not shoot the pianist. He is doing his best.
Brother Preptil, the master of the music, had described Brutha’s voice as putting him in mind of a disappointed vulture arriving too late at the dead donkey.
Jay Pritchett: This salsa dancing, how hard is it to learn?
Manny Delgado: Not hard at all. It’s about tapping into your emotions, your passion, your inner fire.
Jay Pritchett: Crap.
Music is the universal language of mankind — poetry their universal pastime and delight.
Winston: Here’s what I was thinking, okay? If we wanna win this concert, we play something cool, like “Eye of the Tiger.”
Bianca: What’s “Eye of the Tiger”?
Winston: “Eye of the Tiger” is the greatest song ever written. It’s so cool, it ended the Cold War.
Jess: That’s not even a little bit true.