Most of the people who act and sing do so for their own pleasure and that of their friends and family.
It is important that the audience should understand every syllable of every word, for only then can they grasp the meaning of the song.
I am exceedingly lucky that my voice, along with perfect pitch and perfect rhythm, was given me at birth.
Ice cream was my undoing, and six chocolate milk shakes in a row were nothing to me at one time.
An entertainer should in his public performance keep himself out of any controversy, political or otherwise.
Because of my voice, speaking words which had been carefully chosen, women had used money they had set aside for other purposes to buy war bonds.
Public and employer opinion often defeat society's best interests with a prejudice against middle-aged women.
My singing is part of me, like my stoutness, or my light hair, or my poor eyesight.
Since I have been singing for so many years, I don't always need to approach a song quite so laboriously and meticulously.
There's no second chance on stage, and I was trained to make the most of my first chance.
During the presidential primaries of 1940, I received a request from the Democratic National Committee to sing God Bless America before the speeches.
I must work hard to make my singing above reproach; there must be no faults which hard work would take care of.
I was always daydreaming about singing in big productions on Broadway.
The best we can do is to go through life trying to be happy and helping those we meet along the way.
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I knew her better than herself …and she was beautiful and strong and felt deep. It has always surprised me to see the way she saw herself; how little she thought about her person. It struck me as surprising because every single time I’ve seen her, I’ve thought her larger than life. And that’s why the world feared her. Because they couldn’t compare to her; she raised a new bar for others to be measured by. Because looking at the sun hurts…and she was that to me. My own piece of sky.
Aisha…is it wrong of me to wish you to break a leg? Into many tiny, little pieces? And when or if it heals…would it be too much to hope it ends up looking in the wrong direction…like backwards? Because I truly do. From the bottom of my little, black heart.” She crossed her fingers over said thing.