Now everybody's sampling.
quote by Missy Elliot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I've wanted to do it for years, but every attempt at it has turned into another tune. We have actually taken a different approach, we're doing a lot of sampling - we're even sampling bits of Flash!
quote by Peter Banks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Closer
Written: stock waterman, kylie minogue
2x:
Nothing, nothing
Nothing I like better
Together, now together
Nothing I like better
Closer (sampling)
1:
Sometimes
This feels so right
Im losin my mind
I wish that we could stop
And stop time
Then we could be together
All night
Theres nothing I like better
Getting closer (closer)
Closer (closer)
Closer, closer, closer, closer
Closer, closer
Nothing, nothing
Nothing I like better
Together, now together
Nothing I like better
Closer (sampling)
2:
Somehow
I stop myself from cryin
Out loud
When Im with you
cause Im so proud
To be your only lover
And now
Theres nothing I like better
Getting closer (closer)
Closer (closer)
Closer (closer)
Closer (closer)
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yes, sampling has changed not just my way of playing and composing.
quote by Klaus Schulze
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sampling, statisticians have told us, is a much more effective way of getting a good census.
quote by Rob Lowe
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I don't believe in sampling some Tibetan music just to make it sound groovy, but you do your homework, you understand what you're doing with it.
quote by Jessica Hagedorn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Certainly, last year we did an episode about the census and sampling versus a direct statistic. You just said the word ""census,"" and people fall asleep.
quote by Aaron Sorkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We've had a series of major news stories that have brought in viewers who either were sampling to see what else was available or were normal news watchers. The Florida recount and the end of the election was a huge development. And then 9/11 came along.
There are a lot of people who really abused sampling and gave it a bad name, by just taking people's entire hit songs and rapping over them. It gave publishers license to get a little greedy.
I wrote and produced millions and millions of selling records, so my publishing company alone was worth millions of dollars. I didn't have to work anymore in life because when the rappers started sampling... I'm the most sampled artist in history.
quote by Rick James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teenage Recoil
Guys are drooling over you
Sampling your soul
You could be the chosen one
But what if
Everything they say is wrong
And you
Die some
Everlasting teenage recoil
Fall in love with anything
Come undone
With hearts unbroken
And wish upon a lucky star
Sometimes you feel so skinny
It's like you don't even exist
Lolita never been kissed
You gotta feel what can be felt
Touch what can be touched
Do what can be done
But don't
Die Young
Against all odds again
You got zip to lose
song performed by by Zeromancer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry is
Always at my side
Revealing to me all I need to see
Unafraid to expose every mark of beauty
And all scars from her past
Verse, song and limerick
Excitement, relief, and depression
Written or read, alive or dead
Lady of the night
Wrong and then right
Hypocritical, finicky, sexy words
Like a fine wine
First sampling the bouquet
Then sipping the sweetness
And quenching desire with
Bottoms up
Poetry is my pornography
poem by Biff McGuire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mantree
Man & Tree.
There was a spruce tree in the forest, he had
watched it grow from spindly sampling to
a handsome young tree, and thought of it as
the son he never had.
But shortly before Christmas it disappeared
he went to the market in town where they sold
hundreds of trees for those who want the real
thing, but couldn’t find it there.
After the festivities he found his tree on a dump,
green needles gone, now it was brown, he took
the dead plant home and used as kindling to lit
the fire on cold, soggy days.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Hawk I
There was a hawk on the porch rail this morning
the span of your arm.
suddenly, out of nowhere it was there:
not unknown in Central Park, maybe,
but here in East Harlem-rare,
sitting asquat the gleaming, sun-licked bar.
You could see the projects over its wing-shoulder
the Babel-like water-tower.
You could see the cars parked down the block
like never because of mister or miss hawk.
Never have I seen a hawk so up-close.
I could feel the slight tilt of its reddish head,
its feral, yellow eye, led
it seemed, by genuine interest
to range along the neighborhood
sampling each scene as from a smorgasboard of views-
a bite of this, of this. An eye feast.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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America: A Day In It's Life
National Hero
of the year
arrested.
Sheriff
jailed for trading Meth
for sex
Woman put Morphine
in Grandma's chili.
Major banks sued
for foreclosing on
homes illegally
Major Discount Retailors
customer's
injured by syringes
found in their clothing
Dog shoots
hunter with
shotgun in
the Buttocks
Kentucky Church bans
interracial couples
ex District Attorney
has been sexting the victim
just a sampling of
this day's news in
America...
WTF? ? ?
God, I hope 2013
isn't as crazy.
But with the Tea Party
running congress,
it's bound to get worse
: /
Those Creams
Clotted and sour, whipped and double,
All delicious when laid on the tongue,
One could find oneself in deep trouble,
It's hard, keeping the figure young.
They melt with so much pleasure,
When you deem to taste their charm,
And if you're sampling them at leisure,
They can do you a lot of harm.
Inches creep onto your waistline,
And without warning, before very long,
Your poor body becomes less divine,
And your willpower, becomes less strong.
The flavoured ones, they are so yummy,
Nutty mixtures, with chocolate and fudge,
But they're no good at all for your tummy,
And will not help those inches to budge.
Those creams call out, waiting to tempt you,
And so you really just have to resist,
You should try out the 'Weight Watchers' menu,
Now then girls, do you follow the gist?
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Know The Meaning Of Love
Written: stock aitken waterman
1:
We may be young
Are you too old to listen
We could be wrong
But thats our decision
We may not have
Experience or vision
But we can learn
From your mistakes
We may not know
The question or solution
When Im calling
For a revolution
Well learn to fight
All the bitterness and hatred
Ask yourself
Why were we created
Chorus:
We may not have the future clear
We may not know the answer here
But we know the meaning of love
And we know theres never enough
2:
We break the rules
Some rules were meant for breaking
They say were crazy
bout the risk were taking
We may not see
The consequence of what were doin
But thats okay
We just keep on movin
Chorus2:
We could be wrong but thats all right
We may not know the question why
But we know the meaning of love
And we know theres never enough
But we know the meaning of love
And we know theres never enough
Never, never, never (sampling)
Enough
Chorus:
X2: but we know the meaning of love
And we know theres never enough
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Keep On Pumpin It
Written: stock waterman, kylie minogue
1:
Lose my mind (repeat)
Here we go!
Lose my mind (repeat)
Come on (repeat)
Here we go!
Come on (repeat)
Chorus:
Gotta keep on pumpin it up
cause I like it
Gotta keep on pumpin it up
cause I like it
Chorus:
(repeat x5)
2:
Come on (repeat)
Here we go!
Come on (repeat)
(sampling)
Chorus:
(repeat x12)
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Journal Of Mine
I have written a book of memories,
It is stored inside my mind,
And recorded on its pages,
Are many stories all entwined.
Journeys through my childhood,
And on into my teenage years,
Then reaching full maturity,
Sampling a variety of careers.
It only takes a few seconds,
This journal of mine to access,
Encountering joy and sorrow,
Tears of pain and happiness.
Experiences and adventures,
Lots of hellos and goodbyes,
People all intermingled,
In my conscience, which personifies.
These memories are forever,
Full documents of all my days,
Filed away for my future reference,
Enabling entry by the use of replays.
I have written a book of memories,
Into which I just love to delve,
And wander back to times gone by.
Let me recall when I was twelve!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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My feelings for you
I am not ready to compromise
While our heart-beats start to synchronize
So I will start with this note and compose
About a feeling for you which I wish to expose
Like a sudden bolt of electricity
You have arrived my way by destiny
How strange or connected is the past
In time to bring us together at last
Here are two hearts, two minds
Total opposites yet similar in kind
Merging distantly from behind
As the picture step by step unwinds
My feelings for you are new
Though out of the blue they are true
While I give to you and take
With joy every inch of me is wide awake
With you every second is a special bond
Much more precious than any diamond
Baby, baby!
Invite me into your heart at your own leisure
My feelings for you I cannot measure
But I unquestionably wish to treasure
By revealing to you amounts of pleasure
I desire to impose upon you without pressure
These are the ramblings of an amorous mind
Sampling your virtuous love that is arduous to find
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The Apple Orchard
A sunny afternoon, with blanket spread,
Beneath some apple trees, with ample shade,
We'd sit with tray of tea and gingerbread,
Scones with cream, and these were freshly homemade.
Apples hung above us, each ripe and red,
So colourful, they somehow set the scene.
Sampling strawberry jam on thin sliced shortbread,
We'd lay and watch the leaves, with sun between.
Peaceful lazy days were these, and so free,
Whiling away hours, with paint and book,
Our orchard, where under a favoured tree,
We'd relish Peter Pan and Captain Hook.
Those rosy apples, that we'd all consume,
And savour juicy flesh so soft and sweet,
Eating them until we had no more room,
Those halcyon days were to us a treat.
Dappled sunshine sparkled amids the boughs,
And danced on, with a gentle pleasing sway,
Oh What I would give to again just browse,
In that apple orchard, for one more day.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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