The first time I heard Jack Teagarden on the trombone, I had goose pimples all over.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
My trumpeting sounds like a goose farting in the fog.
A frisky spirit makes my trombone sing.
I had plenty of pimples as a kid. One day I fell asleep in the library. When I woke up, a blind man was reading my face.
I saw the gooseflesh on my skin. I did not know what made it. I was not cold. Had a ghost passed over? No, it was the poetry.
He seems determined to make a trumpet sound like a tin whistle.
Never look at the trombones. You'll only encourage them.
As an actor you have one great fear: pimples!
I had a galvanised voice: I could sing through a 105 fever or a flu or a root canal or anything that you could throw at me.
One bites into the brass mouthpiece of his wooden cudgel, and the other blows his cheeks out on a French horn. Do you call that Art?
When I started out, all I did was play my trombone.