Opera Quotes

Quotes tagged as "opera" (showing 1-30 of 93)
Robert Benchley
“Opera is when a guy gets stabbed in the back and, instead of bleeding, he sings.”
Robert Benchley

“Love is a rebellious bird,
that nobody can tame,
and you call him quite in vain,
if it suits him not to come.”
Ludovic Halévy

“None of us can choose where we shall love...”
Susan Kay, Phantom

Charles  Hart
“Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music of the night.”
Charles Hart, The Phantom of the Opera: Piano/Vocal

Gaston Leroux
“They played at hearts as other children might play at ball; only, as it was really their two hearts that they flung to and fro, they had to be very, very handy to catch them, each time, without hurting them.”
Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera

E.A. Bucchianeri
“Theatres are curious places, magician's trick-boxes where the golden memories of dramtic triumphs linger like nostalgic ghosts, and where the unexplainable, the fantastic, the tragic, the comic and the absurd are routine occurences on and off the stage. Murders, mayhem, politcal intrigue, lucrative business, secret assignations, and of course, dinner.”
E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly,

“You are born an artist or you are not. And you stay an artist, dear, even if your voice is less of a fireworks. The artist is always there.

Maria Callas
tags: art, opera

Terry Pratchett
“Well, basically there are two sorts of opera," said Nanny, who also had the true witch's ability to be confidently expert on the basis of no experience whatsoever. "There's your heavy opera, where basically people sing foreign and it goes like "Oh oh oh, I am dyin', oh I am dyin', oh oh oh, that's what I'm doin'", and there's your light opera, where they sing in foreign and it basically goes "Beer! Beer! Beer! Beer! I like to drink lots of beer!", although sometimes they drink champagne instead. That's basically all of opera, reely.”
Terry Pratchett, Maskerade
tags: opera

“My mind has touched the farthest horizons of mortal imagination and reaches ever outward to embrace infinity. There is no knowledge beyond my comprehension, no art or skill upon this entire planet that lies beyond the mastery of my hand. And yet, like Faust, I look in vain, I learn in vain. . . . For as long as I live, no woman will ever look on me in love.”
Susan Kay, Phantom

Terry Pratchett
“The Departure Aria, a very important and romantic song -
This damn door sticks,
This damn door sticks
It sticks no matter what I do.
It is marked 'pull' and indeed I am pulling
Perhaps it should be marked 'push'?

Terry Pratchett, Maskerade
tags: opera

Josh Lanyon
“The only thing worse than opera is someone who hums along with opera.”
Josh Lanyon, A Dangerous Thing

“I had reached up and pulled the castle of dreams down around him.”
Susan Kay

Terry Pratchett
“Dedication: My thanks to the people who showed me that opera was stranger than I could imagine. I can best repay their kindness by not mentioning their names here.”
Terry Pratchett, Maskerade

David Markson
“You can learn more by going to the opera than you ever can by reading Emerson. Like that there are two sexes.”
David Markson

Cheryl Cory
“For the love of God, unless you’re prepping for Rigoletto at the Met, go easy on the eyeliner.”
Cheryl Cory

Victor Borge
“(Referring to the piano's natural shape) Isn't it a shame when those big fat opera singers lean against the pianos and bend them?”
Victor Borge

Philip K. Dick
“I can see Richard Wagner standing at the gates of heaven. "You have to let me in," he says. "I wrote Parsifal. It has to do with the Grail, Christ, suffering, pity and healing. Right?" And they answer, "Well, we read it and it makes no sense." SLAM.”
Philip K. Dick, VALIS

Georges Bizet
“Love is rebellious bird that nobody can tame, and it's all in vain to call it if it chooses to refuse.”
Georges Bizet

Haruki Murakami
“Opera lovers may be the narrowest people in the world.”
Haruki Murakami, After the Quake

H.L. Mencken
“The opera…is to music what a bawdy house is to a cathedral.”
H. L. Mencken
tags: opera

Mariah Carey
“It's in my genes. My mother was an opera singer. I'm clearly dramatic.”
Mariah Carey

“I want you to take off the mask, Erik, do you hear me? I want you to take it off right now.
-Luciana”
Susan Kay

Gabriel García Márquez
“Without a doubt it was Dr. Urbino's most contagious initiative, for opera fever infected the most surprising elements in the city and gave rise to a whole generation of Isoldes and Otellos and Aidas and Siegfrieds. But it never reached the extremes Dr. Urbino had hoped for, which was to see Italianizers and Wagnerians confronting each other with sticks and canes during the intermissions.”
Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera
tags: opera

Emilia Pardo Bazán
“La dictadura es como una aria y nunca llega a ser ópera.”
Emilia Pardo Bazán

E.A. Bucchianeri
“That´s the problem with planning a late night supper after the opera, not only does the hero or the heroine die singing, but you end up famished after the last notes of the finale.”
E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly,

Emilia Pardo Bazán
“The dictatorship is like an aria that never becomes an opera.”
Emilia Pardo Bazán

“Ah! Pauvre ami, comme il m'aimait!”
Massenet Jules

George Bernard Shaw
“Opera is when a tenor and soprano want to make love, but are prevented from doing so by a baritone”
George Bernard Shaw

Debra Holland
“Gratitude tempers sorrow.”
Debra Holland, Singing Montana Sky

Debra Holland
“Chicago, Illinois 1896
Opening Night
Wearing her Brünnhilda costume, complete with padding, breastplate, helm, and false blond braids, and holding a spear as if it were a staff, Sophia Maxwell waited in the wings of the Canfield-Pendegast theatre. The bright stage lighting made it difficult to see the audience filling the seats for opening night of Die Walküre, but she could feel their anticipation build as the time drew near for the appearance of the Songbird of Chicago.

She took slow deep breaths, inhaling the smell of the greasepaint she wore on her face. Part of her listened to the music for her cue, and the other part immersed herself in the role of the god Wotan’s favorite daughter. From long practice, Sophia tried to ignore quivers of nervousness. Never before had stage fright made her feel ill. Usually she couldn’t wait to make her appearance. Now, however, nausea churned in her stomach, timpani banged pain-throbs through her head, her muscles ached, and heat made beads of persperation break out on her brow. I feel more like a plucked chicken than a songbird, but I will not let my audience down.

Annoyed with herself, Sophia reached for a towel held by her dresser, Nan, standing at her side. She lifted the helm and blotted her forehead, careful not to streak the greasepaint.

Nan tisked and pulled out a small brush and a tin of powder from one of the caprious pockets of her apron. She dipped the brush into the powder and wisked it across Sophia’s forehead. “You’re too pale. You need more rouge.”

“No time.”

A rhythmic sword motif sounded the prelude to Act ll. Sophia pivoted away from Nan and moved to the edge of the wing, looking out to the scene of a rocky mountain pass. Soon the warrior-maiden Brünnhilda would make an appearance with her famous battle cry.

She allowed the anticpaptory energy of the audience to fill her body. The trills of the high strings and upward rushing passes in the woodwinds introduced Brünnhilda. Right on cue, Sophia made her entrance and struck a pose. She took a deep breath, preparing to hit the opening notes of her battle call.

But as she opened her mouth to sing, nothing came out. Caught off guard, Sophia cleared her throat and tried again. Nothing. Horrified, she glanced around, as if seeking help, her body hot and shaky with shame.

Across the stage in the wings, Sophia could see Judith Deal, her understudy and rival, watching.

The other singer was clad in a similar costume to Sophia’s for her role as the valkerie Gerhilde. A triumphant expression crossed her face.

Warwick Canfield-Pendegast, owner of the theatre, stood next to Judith, his face contorted in fury. He clenched his chubby hands.

A wave of dizziness swept through Sophia. The stage lights dimmed. Her knees buckled. As she crumpled to the ground, one final thought followed her into the darkness. I’ve just lost my position as prima dona of the Canfield-Pendegast Opera Company.”
Debra Holland, Singing Montana Sky

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