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Et sonnant d’avance sa victoire,
Mon chant jaillit si net, si fier, si peremptoire
Que l’horizon, saisi d'un rose tremblement,
M’obéit.
--
And sounding in advance its victory, My song jets forth so clear, so proud, so peremptory, That the horizon, seized with a rosy trembling, Obeys me.
--
Act II, Sc. 3.

 

Edmond Rostand

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Colour is the place where our brain and the universe meet. That’s why colour appears so entirely dramatic, to true painters. Look at Sainte-Victoire there (the hill Cézanne painted frequently, fh) How it soars, how imperiously it thirsts for the sun!. ..For a long time I was quite unable to paint Sainte-Victoire; I had no idea to go about it because, like others who just look at it, I imagined the shadow to be concave, whereas in fact it’s convex, it disperses outward from the centre. Instead of accumulating, it evaporates, becomes fluid, bluish, participating in the movements of the surrounding air.

 

Paul Cezanne

 

The only f**kin' reason you guys chant my name is 'cause I'm the only guy in the band whose name has two syllables. We call Stone 'Stoney.' You could chant that... 'Stoney, Stoney!'

 

Eddie Vedder

 

The chant was audible but at that distance still wordless. Behind Jack walked the twins, carrying a great stake on their shoulders. The gutted carcass of a pig swung from the stake, swinging heavily as the twins toiled over the uneven ground. The pig's head hung down with gaping neck and seemed to search for something on the ground. At last the words of the chant floated up to them, across the bowl of blackened wood and ashes.
"Kill the pig! Cut her throat! Spill the blood!"
Yet as the words became audible, the procession reached the steepest part of the mountain, and in a minute or two the chant had died away.

 

William Golding

 

Heart of my heart, the world is young;
Love lies hidden in every rose!
Every song that the skylark sung
Once, we thought, must come to a close:
Now we know the spirit of song,
Song that is merged in the chant of the whole,
Hand in hand as we wander along,
What should we doubt of the years that roll?

 

Alfred Noyes

 

? chaque fois que la chasse recule, c'est le Coca-Cola qui s'avance.

 

Roselyne Bachelot