Why should I just limit myself to the Urdu language? Why not sing in different languages?
With strength to meet sorrow, and faith to endure
Did you ever hear Of the frolic fairies dear? They're a blessed little race, Peeping up in fancy's face, In the valley, on the hill, By the fountain and the rill; Laughing out between the leaves That the loving summer weaves.
Labor! all labor is noble and holy! Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God.
Better confide and be deceiv'd, A thousand times, by treacherous foes, Than once accuse the innocent, Or let suspicion mar repose.
And wheresoever, in his rich creation, Sweet music breathes--in wave, or bird, or soul-- 'Tis but the faint and far reverberation Of that great tune to which the planets roll!
Labor is rest--from the sorrow that greet us; Rest from all petty vexations that meet us, Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us, Rest from the world-sirens that hire us to ill. Work--and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow; Work--thou shalt ride over Care's coming billow; Lie not down wearied 'neath Woe's weeping willow! Work with a stout heart and resolute will!
For me, drum elements are like hieroglyphics - I think of a certain physical figure, and a little three-dimensional glyph will appear in my mind as I'm playing.
The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come.
People say history is boring, and that is true because people are boring. We haven't changed since time began. We're still the same.
Can't stand all these poisonous creatures, all these snakes and insects and fish and things. Wretched things, biting everybody. And then people expect me to tell them what to do about it. I'll tell them what to do. Don't get bitten in the first place. (quoting Dr. Struan Sutherland)