The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purr — Brenda Sutton Rose
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The guitar poured out its soul, its history, its dreams, its pain, its victories, its secrets. The guitar’s strings purred with blues and ended with a haunting solitary song with no lyrics.

— Brenda Sutton Rose
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More “Blues” Quotes

Beauty was not simply something to behold — it was something one could do.
Have you got any soul?" a woman asks the next afternoon. That depends, I feel like saying; some days yes, some days no. — Nick Hornby, High Fidelity
Musically, he was like an old man in a boy's skin. — Eric Clapton
The guitar breathed. It inhaled and exhaled, and music filled the shop as the instrument picked the heartbreak of genera — Brenda Sutton Rose
A real musician ain’t gonna choose his own guitar like an evil master choosing his slave. The guitar will choose his mas — Brenda Sutton Rose
The sad thing about reading the book and then watching the movie is that they have to die all over again. — Joyce Rachelle
Whatever happened in those more than one hundred years, from the time my great-great-great grandfather studied law to th — Gwenn Wright, The BlueStocking Girl
Moment by moment, in life's winter life frozeEchoing a history of blues, a milestone rose — Sandeep N Tripathi
For me there is something primitively soothing about this music, and it went straight to my nervous system, making me fe — Eric Clapton
She's no lady. Her songs are all unbelievably unhappy or lewd. It's called Blues. She sings about sore feet, sexual rela — Ann-Marie MacDonald, Fall on Your Knees
At first the music almost repelled me, it was so intense, and this man made no attempt to sugarcoat what he was trying t — Eric Clapton
Quizás aun no te comprenda. Pero, con un poco de tiempo, llegaré a entenderte. Y no habrá nadie en el mundo que te compr — Haruki Murakami