Sing to me in the silence of your heart and I will rise up to hear your triumphant song.

Sing through your grief. Don't let your thoughts weigh you down.

Sing then the core of dark and absolute oblivion where the soul at last is lost in utter peace.

Sing the songs of joy to the Lord, serve the Name of the Lord, and become the servant of His servants.

Sing the song or keep it inside.

Sing sweet, but put a little dirt in it.

Sing such a song with all of your heart that you'll never have to sing again.

Sing songs that none have sung.

Sing of the nature of women, and then the song shall be surely full of variety; old crotchets and most sweet closes. It shall be humorous, grave, fantastic, amorous, melancholy, sprightly, one in all, and all in one.

Sing of disappointments more repeated than the batter of the sea, of lives embittered by resentments so ubiquitous the ocean's salt seems thinly shaken, of letdowns local as the sofa where I copped my freshman's feel, of failures as frequent as first love, first nights, last stands; do not warble of arms or adventurous deeds or shepherds playing on their private fifes, or of civil war or monarchies at swords; consider rather the slightly squinkered clerk, the soul which has become as shabby and soiled in its seat as worn-out underwear, a life lit like a lonely room and run like a laddered stocking.

Sing me not a song; let me hear your recital of veneration and respect; this I will listen to over and over when I share your need of pleasing.

Sing like nobody can hear you, dance like nobody can see you, and love like you've never been hurt.

Sing like no one is listening.

Love like you've never been hurt.

Dance like nobody's watching,

and live like it's heaven on earth.

Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.

Sing in me, muse, of arms and a man, who first from the shores of Troy.

Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story.

Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story
of that man skilled in all ways of contending,
the wanderer, harried for years on end.

Sing hey! Sing hey!

For Christmas Day;

Twine mistletoe and holly.

For a friendship glows

In winter snows,

And so let's all be jolly!

At Christmas play and make good cheer,

For Christmas comes but once a year.

Sing away sorrow, cast away care.