Quotes on Harps

Free thyself from the mighty attraction-_x000D_ _x000D_ The maddening wine of love, the charm of sex._x000D_ _x000D_ Break the harp! Forward, with the ocean's cry!. . .

I never learned how to tune a harp, or play upon a lute; but I know how to raise a small and obscure city to glory and greatness...whereto all kindreds of the earth will pilgrim.

Then the voices of the Ainur, like unto harps and lutes, and pipes and trumpets, and viols and organs, and like unto countless choirs singing with words, began to fashipn the theme of Iluvatar to a great music; and a sound arose of endless interchanging melodies woven in harmony that passed beyond hearing into the depths and into the heights, and the places of the dwelling of Iluvatar were filled to overflowing, and the music and the echo of the music went out into the Void, and it was not void.

Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.

Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings.

Think of what you are, you Christians. You are God's children; you are joint heirs with Christ. The 'many mansions' are for you; the palms and harps of the glorified are for you. You have a share in all that Christ has and is and shall be.

I have been in Sorrow's kitchen and licked out all the pots. Then I have stood on the peaky mountain wrapped in rainbows, with a harp and sword in my hands.

Whoop it up for liberty! After Ireland is free, says the patriot who won't touch socialism, we will protect all classes, and if you won't pay your rent you will be evicted same as now. But the evicting party, under command of the sheriff, will wear green uniforms and the Harp without the Crown, and the warrant turning you out on the roadside will be stamped with the arms of the Irish Republic. Now, isn't that worth fighting for?

Harpists spend 90 percent of their lives tuning their harps and 10 percent playing out of tune.

When it seems like the night will last forever,_x000D_ _x000D_ And there's nothing left to do but count the years, _x000D_ _x000D_ When the strings of my harp to sever, _x000D_ _x000D_ And stones fall from my eyes instead of tears... _x000D_ _x000D_ I will walk alone by the black muddy river, _x000D_ _x000D_ And dream me a dream of my own, _x000D_ _x000D_ I will walk alone by the black muddy river,_x000D_ _x000D_ And sing me a song of my own.

The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er; And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more.

Life is like the harp string, if it is strung too tight it won't play, if it is too loose it hangs, the tension that produces the beautiful sound lies in the middle.

The whole world is burdened with young fogies. Old men with ossified minds are easily dealt with. But men who look young, act young, and everlastingly harp on the fact they are young, but who nevertheless think and act with a degree of caution which would be excessive in their grandfathers, are the curses of the world.

And even if this world burns up hidden harps will still play here.

Where is the soul? . . . I refuse to believe anything of that kind without proof. The idea that, as soon as a man's breath leaves his body, the soul flops out like a chicken's head and flies off into space to find a lodgment where there [are] harps and haloes. Too much for me.

Some take their gold in minted mold, and some in harps thereafter, but give me mine in bubbles fine and keep the change in laughter.

Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string?_x000D_ _x000D_ I am shamed through all my nature to have lov'd so slight a thing.

Our life contains a thousand springs,_x000D_ _x000D_ And dies if one be gone._x000D_ _x000D_ Strange! that a harp of thousand strings_x000D_ _x000D_ Should keep in tune so long.

I hold it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.

If we affirm one moment, we thus affirm not only ourselves but all existence. For nothing is self-sufficient, neither in us ourselves nor in things; and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event - and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed.

I bear my testimony that there is no joy to be found in all this world like that of sweet communion with Christ. I would barter all else there is of heaven for that. Indeed, that is heaven. As for the harps of gold and the streets like clear glass and the songs of seraphs and the shouts of the redeemed, one could very well give all these up, counting them as a drop in a bucket, if we might forever live in fellowship and communion with Jesus.