Piano Quote Quotes
Quotes tagged as "piano-quote"
Showing 1-4 of 4
“There is an inanimate object which has a capacity to exasperate which no human being will ever attain: a piano.”
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“This man's music has become part of Souren's mornings, as essential as the sun rising over the rooftops of the city. The familiar melody offers him a moment of quiet grace, and this gives him strength for the day ahead. The pianist knows nothing of this, of course. He plays only for himself. Souren wonders how the arc of the man's own days is changed by creating such beauty each morning. He watches as the pianist makes his lonely way down the street. The man looks tired, defeated. He does not play for joy, thinks Souren. He plays for survival.”
― The Paris Hours
― The Paris Hours
“He considered for a moment, then started to play a piece that was very familiar to Ruth, although she had no idea what it was. It was lilting and wistful, and she could have sung the melody if she had wished.
'Alright?' He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
'Yes. Exactly.'
It was effortless and perfect, and he played it through to the end, closing with the softest and most delicate chords, which hung and faded in the quiet hall like the grains of dust raining through the evening light. Ruth was touched. It was all she had wanted. He did not move until there was complete silence again, then he closed the lid without saying anything, and stood up, shoving back the chair. ... 'What was that piece?'
'A Brahms waltz.'
'Hasn't it got a name?' she wanted it to remember.
'Number fifteen. Opus thirty-nine.'
It hadn't sounded like numbers to Ruth.”
― The Beethoven Medal
'Alright?' He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
'Yes. Exactly.'
It was effortless and perfect, and he played it through to the end, closing with the softest and most delicate chords, which hung and faded in the quiet hall like the grains of dust raining through the evening light. Ruth was touched. It was all she had wanted. He did not move until there was complete silence again, then he closed the lid without saying anything, and stood up, shoving back the chair. ... 'What was that piece?'
'A Brahms waltz.'
'Hasn't it got a name?' she wanted it to remember.
'Number fifteen. Opus thirty-nine.'
It hadn't sounded like numbers to Ruth.”
― The Beethoven Medal
“When we see a broken piano, we still press its keys to see if it is playing, and this is called hope! Hope is a fascinating desire not to lose things!”
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