One of these music masons, an Arab, set off with a Jew and a Khazar to hear how his stone would sing with the coming spring.

The stone - the size of a fist - sang across the arena and took a bearded man full in the face.

If you listen well, you can hear the stones sing of battle and of glory.

Later, she would swear she heard the stones sing.

Tamurello's chant reverberated through the castle, so that the stones sang and hissed.

He drove the temperature down, and down again, until the stone snapped and sang, shackled by bands of frost.

She found it as hard now as she had then to stay unhappy when the stones sang.

The blue stones sang when she stepped on them, just as they had last night.

Bullock could make a stone sing.

The stone sang to him, danced with him.