Life is like a trumpet - if you don't put anything into it, you don't get anything out of it. William Christopher Handy More Quotes by William Christopher Handy More Quotes From 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 falling-in-lovemusicalmind With a guitar I would be able to express the things I felt in sounds. William Christopher Handy guitarwould-besound Sometimes I feel like nothin,' somethin' throwed away, William Christopher Handy guitarplaysometimes 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 symphonysongbird My big ears indicated a talent for music. This thrilled me. William Christopher Handy talentbigsears 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 long-agojobsmen 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 storiesdreamsong The blues - the sound of a sinner on revival day. William Christopher Handy sinnerrevivalsound You can never tell what's in a woman's mind, William Christopher Handy harlemusemind A lean, loose-jointed Negro had commenced plunking a guitar beside me while I slept. His clothes were rags; his feet peeped out of his shoes. His face had on it some of the sadness of the ages. As he played, he pressed a knife on the strings of the guitar in a manner popularized by Hawaiian guitarists who used steel bars. The effect was unforgettable. William Christopher Handy knivesguitarsadness Nature was my kindergarten. William Christopher Handy kindergarten Saving was slow and painful. William Christopher Handy savingpainpainful I hate to see the evening sun go down. William Christopher Handy eveninghatesun I think America concedes that true American music has sprung from the Negro. William Christopher Handy sprungamericathinking I knew the whistle of each of the river boats on the Tennessee. William Christopher Handy boattennesseerivers You'll never miss the water 'til the well runs dry. William Christopher Handy missingrunningwater 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 appreciatemenart 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 eyenameshouse 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 snakeshomewind Life is something like a trumpet. If you don't put anything in, you won't get anything out. William Christopher Handy somethinglikeyoulife
