Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.
We gon' float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. AH! Rumble, young man rumble! AH!
Let's get ready to rumble!
He is the king. If it hadn't been for Link Wray and 'Rumble,' I would have never picked up a guitar.
I have to mime at parties when everyone sings Happy Birthday... Mime or mumble and rumble and growl and grunt so deep that only moles, manta rays and mushrooms can hear me.
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!
I feel like if I ever got into some sort of rumble on the street, I will actually be able to defend myself.
I got out of the Army - in my world - I came to New York, for instance, when the civil rights movement was just beginning, and that created a certain energy, a certain rumble, a certain impetus for black actors.
Last night I had a dream. When I got to Africa, I had one hell of a rumble. I had to beat Tarzan's behind first, for claiming to be King of the Jungle.
[Comics] were viewed as the literary equivalent of bubblegum cards, meant to be poked into the spokes of a young mind where they would produce a satisfying but entirely bogus rumble of pleasure.
Experience is a mere whiff or rumble, produced by enormously complex and ill-deciphered causes of experience; and in the other direction, experience is a mere peephole through which glimpses come down to us of eternal things.
Along the Paris streets, the death-carts rumble, hollow and harsh. Six tumbrils carry the day's wine to La Guillotine.
It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself up out of the dark abyss of pish and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash.
I wouldn't dream of working on something that didn't make my gut rumble and my heart want to explode.
I think that taking life seriously means something such as this: that whatever man does on this planet has to be done in the lived truth of the terror of creation, of the grotesque, of the rumble of panic underneath everything. Otherwise it is false. Whatever is achieved must be achieved with the full exercise of passion, of vision, of pain, of fear, and of sorrow. How do we know, that our part of the meaning of the universe might not be a rhythm in sorrow?
While he has not, in my hearing, spoken the English language, he makes it perfectly plain that he understands it. And he uses his ears, tail, eyebrows, various rumbles and grunts, the slant of his great cold nose or a succession of heartrending sighs to get his meaning across.
I figured out how to get the guitar to rumble...I put it on the middle pickup, turn the tone know down, grab it by the wang bar, and just shake it on the floor... a Stratocaster is pretty tough - I wouldn't recommend that anybody do that with their ES-335
Did you hear 'bout Ticklish Tom? He got tickled by his mom. Wiggled and giggled and fell on the floor, . . . . And all the more that he kept gigglin', All the more folks kept ticklin'. He shrieked and screamed and rolled around, Laughed his way right out of town. Through the country down the road, He got tickled by a toad. . . . . Giggling, rolling on his back He rolled on the railroad track. Rumble, rumble, whistle, roar- Tom ain't ticklish any more.
Good evening, daddy! Ain't you heard The boogie-woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Trilling the treble And twining the bass Into midnight ruffles Of cat-gut lace.
Good morning, daddy! Ain't you heard The boogie-woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? • • • • You think It's a happy beat?
or simply: