It came from a different person, a person who had learned how to build a voice from the ruins up, a person who had lost everything and had begun from having worse than nothing.
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It came from a different person, a person who had learned how to build a voice from the ruins up, a person who had lost everything and had begun from having worse than nothing. A person who had not given up believing that she sang, that music would come to her because she wanted it to come, and it had to come, and she would use everything in her power to encourage it to do so.
...whatever/ returns from oblivion/ returns to find a voice.
As she spoke, her voice never wavered; it was the voice of someone who has forced a larger meaning out of tragedy.
From birds she learned how to sing; from cats she learned a form of dangerous independence.
When I was a boy and I sang, my voice felt to me like a leak sprung from a small and secret star hidden somewhere in my chest and whatever there was about me that was fragile disappeared when my mouth opened and I let the voice out. We learned, we were prisons for our voices. You could want to try and make sure the door was always opened... We weren't something struck to make a tone. We were strike and instrument both. If you can hold the air and shake it to make something, you learn, maybe you can make anything. Maybe you can walk out of here on this thin, thin air.
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The best come from the worst
One who has hope lives differently.
d’un homme qui a perdu tout ce qu’il aimait et qui, depuis, n’est plus tout à fait de ce monde.
Nobody is born with a style or a voice. We don’t come out of the womb knowing who we are. In the beginning, we learn by pretending to be our heroes. We learn by copying.
Disorder came from order, fear came from courage, weakness came from strength.
True, they were broken and stammering syllables; but they were human speech. My soul, conscious of new strength, came out of bondage, and was reaching through those broken symbols of speech to all knowledge and all faith.
"No," he repeated, and this time the word tolled in another voice, a king's voice... whose grief was not for what he did not have, but for what he could not give.
Life's had to break you down so you could be rebuilt
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View Plansstruggling gives one strength.
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