Rhythmic Pattern Quotes

I hardly know what I'm going to write - an article, a story, a poem in free verse - or in some regular form. I only know that when I have the first sentence. And when the first sentence makes a kind of pattern, then I find out the kind of rhythm I'm looking for.

Baseball is a habit. The slowly rising crescendo of each game, the rhythm of the long season--these are the essentials and they are remarkably unchanged over nearly a century and a half. Of how many American institutions can that be said?

Greek architecture taught me that the column is where the light is not, and the space between is where the light is. It is a matter of no-light, light, no-light, light. A column and a column brings light between them. To make a column which grows out of the wall and which makes its own rhythm of no-light, light, no-light, light: that is the marvel of the artist.

'Head Over Boots' is a shuffle, but it's more of a Motown laid-back shuffle than, say, a Dwight Yoakam shuffle.

Very often, you did something slow with your arm, for example, and something rapid with your feet - but the arm had to do something large against this - and this set up a kind of opposition.

I have a sound. It's called 'funk mixed with stank.' That's what I do.

The fact that rap has a strict meter and stays to a click means that you have to make your thoughts concise.

The process of repeating a rhythm while it gently evolves has an incredible effect on the brain, or on mine anyway.

I frequently compose out the entire metric structure of a piece in modified cyclic form, where each cyclic revolution undergoes some form of 'variation' much as if measure lengths were concrete musical 'material.'

Hip Nip just sounds groovy. A drummer laid it on me.

I usually write to the beat. Really, the beat can make the song itself.

The first thing we have to do is get rid of the pentameter. To ditch the pentameter.

A great tragedy passes from crest to hollow of passion, rises and sinks again, as rhythmically as sea-waves.

...his hoofbeats fall like rain, over and over again.

There is a rhythm to the ending of a marriage just like the rhythm of a courtship, only backward.

There is no music in a “rest” that I know of, but there's the making of music in it. And people are always missing that part of the life melody.

The energy moving through your body is quite rhythmic.

All syncopation means is accenting beats that you don't normally accent.

I've always felt like every note of a song is of equal value.

I always like to think that I make movies that are like Nirvana songs. They have a slow verse and then they pop into high gear and then they go back into slow and then they pop into high gear again.

You can always hear me breathing during my verses, but that breathing becomes part of the music.

The rhythmic pattern of the poem, which forces continuity of attention - incites a pleasurable compulsion to 'follow' - is either a tried metrical suasion-contrivance or a specially invented pattern of physical insistences, equally, if not more, binding in its effect on the reader. From a straight linguistic point of view, there is room for wonder if there is not latent vice in this environment in which pleasurable physically-compelled responses, produced by incidents of poetic utterance, are identified with the Good.

The waves broke and spread their waters swiftly over the shore. One after another they massed themselves and fell; the spray tossed itself back with the energy of their fall. The waves were steeped deep-blue save for a pattern of diamond-pointed light on their backs which rippled as the backs of great horses ripple with muscles as they move. The waves fell; withdrew and fell again, like the thud of a great beast stamping.