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Master Carvelle: Your clock is ticking kid.
Stet: Well your clock is ticking too old man.
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Master Carvelle: Hmm... Odessa. I remember. You walked out on me. That was a first.
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Drake: Someone remind me, are we an academy for elite singers or some weird cat rescue mission?
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Devon: A thousand - two thousand seat halls, all those people. Doesn't matter. You don't even see 'em.
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Master Carvelle: This is a community of people feeling the same thing. Most of them, strangers. But you are uniting them. You are giving them your voice. And that's as spiritual as it gets.
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Stet: I hate Handel.
Master Carvelle: Handel hated singers too.
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Drake: If you have to cheat, cheat better.
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Master Carvelle: This is very simple Mr. Owens. I continue your son's instruction and you secret remains just that.
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Master Carvelle: And now gentlemen, the note on the page. The high D.
[Boys attempt it]
Master Carvelle: Not even close, but whoever hits it first sings lead treble in New York.
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Master Carvelle: We all think we know these boys, what goes on with them, but we don't. We don't know a damn thing. We have forgotten what it was like to be them.
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Master Carvelle: This is about music. It's about you. It's fifty minutes of your life, and I want you to celebrate yourself.
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Carvelle: [berating Stet] How Dare You Squander Your Gift
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Kid: [goading Stet] I saw your mother out with that skinhead... I thought your mom only dated Mexicans
[stet walks away, then returns carrying a bin which he throws at said kid]
Boychoir Quotes
Extended Reading
