I needed to sing because nobody else was singing my songs.

Sing, if you can sing, and if not still be
musical inside yourself.

Embrace your solitude and love it. Endure the pain it causes, and try to sing out with it. For those near to you are distant...

I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.

If you want to sing out, sing out, and if you want to be free, be free, cause there's a million ways to be, you know that there are.

Each person who ever was or is or will be has a song. It isn't a song that anybody else wrote. It has its own melody, it has its own words. Very few people get to sing their song. Most of us fear that we cannot do it justice with our voices, or that our words are too foolish or too honest, or too odd. So people live their song instead.

Live life as though nobody is watching, and express yourself as though everyone is listening.

If I can sing, I still am free.

You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth.

How people will talk about one’s doings!” Fancy exclaimed.

“Well, if you make songs about yourself, my dear, you can’t blame other people for singing ’em.

If no one responds to your call, then go your own way alone.

Do what you want
For you only
Not for giving
Just for taking
No one's listening

I sing, not to hear the echo repeat, a shade fainter, my song! I think of light and not of glory! Singing is my fashion of waging war and bearing witness. And if my song is the proudest of songs, it is that I sing clearly to make the day rise clear!

This is not a book. This is libel, slander, defamation of character. This is not a book, in the ordinary sense of the word. No, this is a prolonged insult, a gob of spit in the face of Art, a kick in the pants to God, Man, Destiny, Time, Love, Beauty . . . what you will. I am going to sing for you, a little off key perhaps, but I will sing. I will sing while you croak, I will dance over your dirty corpse . . .

To sing you must first open your mouth. You must have a pair of lungs, and a little knowledge of music. It is not necessary to have an accordion, or a guitar. The essential thing is to want to sing. This then is a song. I am singing.