En.Citatepedia^®.ro

I don't fiddle or edit or change while I'm going through that first draft.

quote by Nora Roberts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fiddle About

Uncle ernie:
Uncle ernie:
Im your wicked uncle ernie
Im your wicked uncle ernie
Im glad you wont see or hear me
Im glad you wont see or hear me
As I fiddle about
As I fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
Your mother left me here to mind you
Your mother left me here to mind you
Now Im doing what I want to
Now Im doing what I want to
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddle about!
Fiddle about!
Down with the bedclothes
Down with the bedclothes
Up with the nightshirt!
Up with the nightshirt!
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
You wont shout as I fiddle about
You wont shout as I fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.
Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.

song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Itching Heels

FU' de peace o' my eachin' heels, set down;
Don' fiddle dat chune no mo'.
Don' you see how dat melody stuhs me up
An' baigs me to tek to de flo'?
You knows I's a Christian, good an' strong;
I wusship f'om June to June;
My pra'ahs dey ah loud an' my hymns ah long:
I baig you don' fiddle dat chune.
I's a crick in my back an' a misery hyeah
Whaih de j'ints's gittin' ol' an' stiff,
But hit seems lak you brings me de bref o' my youf;
W'y, I's suttain I noticed a w'iff.
Don' fiddle dat chune no mo', my chile,
Don' fiddle dat chune no mo';
I'll git up an' taih up dis groun' fu' a mile,
An' den I'll be chu'ched fu' it, sho'.
Oh, fiddle dat chune some mo', I say,
An' fiddle it loud an' fas':
I's a youngstah ergin in de mi'st o' my sin;
De p'esent's gone back to de pas'.
I'll dance to dat chune, so des fiddle erway;
I knows how de backslidah feels;
So fiddle it on 'twell de break o' de day
Fu' de sake o' my eachin' heels.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moments Of Writing Poetry

Draft poems sometimes like
loose ripped off pieces of paper
to be drafted out roughly upon.

Draft poems hang around
in the strangest places waiting
to be written out one day.

Draft poems wait for a poet
to wake at the beginning of day
to be written out, in any
seized moments, sacrificed.

This is now time, shower time, eating time,
reflective time, conversation time, work time;
t.v. time, driving time, riding motorcycle time,
going to sleep time, cooking time, or any time.

Draft poems can only be written
in spared moments of seized time.

Draft poems can only be written today,
they will not wait for fair weather like hay,
which lays around waiting to be harvested.

Draft poems will not wait for a clear sunny day to dawn,
and then mature slowly, over a perfect golden summer.

Draft poems are ever now or never
if they are ever to be swiftly written.

A draft may possibly be perfected
upon any future day of favoured writing;
but a draft never written is a poem
never written, never completed, never known.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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To Vanessa Mae

after the fiddle in the wildest harmonies
of your classical violin
please come to my room and fiddle
the best of all the best songs
the base, the tip of my top, the
giggle of the gigs inside my
underwear, there is this fire
that damns me to an eternal longing
this madness not anymore bound
to a second fiddle. play me, please.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For me the writing, when I'm going to direct it myself, is really just the first draft, and I don't change it very much; I only change it on average about two lines per movie.

quote by John Sayles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing, yeah. Me and my friend Scott Bloom just finished the first rough draft of a script. It's taken us three years to do, but we finally got a first draft. And we'll see whatever happens with that.

quote by Ethan Suplee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was part of the draft resistance movement in LA where we did demonstrations at the draft centre and burned our cards and made a lot of trouble on campus.

quote by Cheech Marin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now that I can edit the whole thing on AVID and edit the whole thing on tape, maybe I will do the next digitally, because maybe the quality will become less obvious between tape and film.

quote by Michael Apted
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dum Dum Diddle

I can hear how you work, practising hard
Playing night and day, woah-oh
And it sounds better now
Yes, you improve every time you play, woah-oh
But its bad
Youre so sad
And youre only smiling
When you play your violin
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
To be so near you and not just hear you
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
I think then maybe youd see me, baby
Youd be mine
And wed be together all the time
Wish I was, dum-dum-diddle, your darling fiddle
But I think you dont know that I exist
Im the quiet kind, woah-oh
From the day when I first listened to you
Youve been on my mind, woah-oh
You dont care
Its not fair
And youre only smiling
When you play your violin
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
To be so near you and not just hear you
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
I think then maybe youd see me, baby
Youd be mine
And wed be together all the time
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
To be so near you and not just hear you
Dum-dum-diddle, to be your fiddle
I think then maybe youd see me, baby
Youd be mine
And wed be together all the time
Wish I was, dum-dum-diddle, your darling fiddle

song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You hate to see yourself do one draft of a script and then have somebody else come back in and change what you've done.

quote by Thomas Lennon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Second Day of Class

This sylph came forward
from the second row
the second day of class
and asked if
I would edit her poem
so it would read
the way it should.

I told her straightaway
that even though
this was writing class
and I was the instructor,
I couldn't edit her poem
and still have the poem be hers.

Editing her poem, I said,
would be a little like rape,
just painful in a different way
whether she understood that
yet or not.

poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We may need to change the way we think. As in Israel, I think there should be a mandatory draft, where you go away for the service of your country for three years.

quote by Steven Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Change! Change! Change!

change! change! change!
everybody talkin' about change.

change your look,
change your luck,
change your politics,
change your religion...

change the country,
change the world....
change the day!
change your underwear!

loose change, pocket change,
winds of change, march for change....

but all real change begins within...
let's work on that,
and then everything else
will change in turn!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Philosophy In Life

when you read that poem about deleting Maureen
i regret to have given you the wrong spelling for delet...

i know it lacks an e.
but i do not wish to delet it anymore or even edit it.

i have this philosophy in life you know
do not go back
leave all your tracks as they were once made

do not edit life
let them see how mistakes were made and how they need not be corrected

simply because you know that
people are patient and they understand the common ground of our humanity

errors, not eros.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The latest will seem the best

As I grow I scrap my clothes.
As I grow I dropp my kiths.
As I grow I change my views
And also edit my scripts.
05.08.2010

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To me the only real star of the movie is the writer. And I work with writers very closely, from outline to first draft and on to the seventh draft, whatever it takes. Then my job is to support the director to make the best movie we can. Some producers try to go past them, but my job is to support them.

quote by Dino De Laurentiis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sit And Fiddle With This

You're getting out of my life.
And not for one specific reason.
I think we both know it is clear,
The end is very near.
And,
You're out of my life.
To drift your fits to faddish reasons.

You're getting out of my life.
And not for one specific reason.
I think we both know it is clear,
The end is very near.
And,
You're out of my life.
To drift your fits to faddish reasons.

Go go...
And build yourself a kite.
Double up the string on it and hold on real tight.

Go go...
And do that which you like.
There's no need to argue, fuss or cuss to fight.

Go go...
And build yourself a kite,
'Cause...
There's no need for us to sit and fiddle with this day and night.
Go go...
And do that which you like.
'Cause...
There's no need for us to sit and fiddle with this day and night.

You're getting out of my life.
And not for one specific reason.
I think we both know it is clear,
The end is very near.
And,
There's no need for us to sit and fiddle with this day and night.

Go go...
And build yourself a kite,
'Cause...
There's no need for us to sit and fiddle with this day and night.
Go go...
And do that which you like.
'Cause...
There's no need for us to sit and fiddle with this day and night.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Time Fiddle

(Vince Gill / Leslie Satcher)
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Play an old time fiddle song
I might even drink just a little
If you play Little Jolie Blon
If you're lookin' or me
I'm liable to be
In the middle of the ol' dance floor
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
First Chorus:
I wanna throw down on a hoe down
Hanging with the people I know
Hear the sweet sound
Of a breakdown
When you put a little rosin on the bow
Y'all come on over when the sun goes down
Bang on the ol' screen door
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
I miss ol' Herman Stover
Playin' Listen To The Mockingbird
It was Piedmont, Oklahoma
It was the sweetest sound I ever heard
Skinny ol' man in a cowboy band
You could barely get the people in the door
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
Second Chorus:
I wanna throw down on a hoe down
Hanging with the people I know
Hear the sweet sound
Of a breakdown
When you put a little rosin on the bow
Play diggy diggy li
Diggy diggy lo
The a little Cotten-Eyed Joe
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore.
First chorus:
Y'all come on over when the sun goes down
Bang on the ol' screen door
I wanna hear an old time fiddle
Like you never get to hear anymore...

song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fiddle And The Crowd

WHEN the day was at its middle,
Tired of limb and slow of pace,
Came a fiddler with his fiddle
To a crowded market place;
Lying, cheating, boasting, bragging,
Men and women walked together;
Heads were nodding, tongues were wagging,
Talk there was of trade and weather,
Talk there was of man's enslavement
To the tyrants, Toil and Worry;
Yet the fiddle on the pavement
Minding not the noise and hurry,
Singing low and singing loud —
Spoke its message to the crowd.
Said the fiddle —
'Pause and listen;
Can't you hear the waters running
Down the mossy mountain valleys?
Don't you see the lyre-bird sunning
Glossy plumes in fronded alleys?
Life is glory, life is glamour!'
Said the fiddle
In the middle
Of the tumult and the clamour.
Though unheeded seemed the fiddle,
Bidding each and all rejoice,
When the day was at its middle —
Yet beneath its magic voice,
Laughing, sobbing, teasing, fretting,
Men and women met together,
Smiled to find themselves forgetting
Troublous thoughts of trade and weather;
One bethought him of a cavern
Cool and sweet with running water,
And another of a tavern
And a tavern-keeper's daughter —
Ale to drink and lips to kiss —
'Twas the fiddle did all this!
Said the fiddle —
'Hush and hearken
To the song that I am singing,
For it is a song entrancing.
Telling now of gladness ringing,
Telling now of children dancing;
Life is music, life is glamour.'
Said the fiddle
In the middle
Of the tumult and the clamour.

poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fiddle-Dee-Dee

There once was a bird that lived up in a tree,
And all he could whistle was "Fiddle-dee-dee" -
A very provoking, unmusical song
For one to be whistling the summer day long!
Yet always contented and busy was he
With that vocal recurrence of "Fiddle-dee-dee."

Hard by lived a brave little soldier of four,
That weird iteration repented him sore;
"I prithee, Dear-Mother-Mine! fetch me my gun,
For, by our St. Didy! the deed must be done
That shall presently rid all creation and me
Of that ominous bird and his 'Fiddle-dee-dee'!"

Then out came Dear-Mother-Mine, bringing her son
His awfully truculent little red gun;
The stock was of pine and the barrel of tin,
The "bang" it came out where the bullet went in -
The right kind of weapon I think you'll agree
For slaying all fowl that go "Fiddle-dee-dee"!

The brave little soldier quoth never a word,
But he up and he drew a straight bead on that bird;
And, while that vain creature provokingly sang,
The gun it went off with a terrible bang!
Then loud laughed the youth - "By my Bottle," cried he,
I've put a quietus on 'Fiddle-dee-dee'!"

Out came then Dear-Mother-Mine, saying: "My son,
Right well have you wrought with your little red gun!
Hereafter no evil at all need I fear,
With such a brave soldier as You-My-Love here!"
She kissed the dear boy.
(The bird in the tree
Continued to whistle his "Fiddle-dee-dee")

poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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