If my tongue were trained to measures, I would sing a stirring song.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
My tongue is what I used instead of my fists because I was a small and cowardly young man. Amusing people with stories and being bizarre with words was my way of getting out of fixes.
You'd have a good voice, if it ever came out of your throat.
When I sang my father's songs in concert, that was all people wanted to hear. I was always asking myself, 'Can I measure up?'
If the quickness of the mind and the fluency of the tongue are too punctilious and sharp, moderate them in your activity and rest.
I can loop my tongue into multiple rolls.
I have a very sharp tongue, I'm very impatient, and it's a lifelong struggle.
My mother would thump me sharply on the head with a thimble or a spoon if I became too noisy with the whistle when I was playing I was a steamboat captain. She had no sense of the dignity of command.
One of my real goals was to hear someone whistling a song I'd written.
In order to get a note out, I have to dig deep, and I mean that on an emotional level. To physically sing, I have to get somewhere deep before I can do it.
I'm certainly not a trained singer. The only place I could probably carry a tune is my shower.