Quotes About Noise

I realized the place was awash in noise. The toneless systems, the jangle and skid of carts, the loudspeaker and coffee-making machines, the cries of children. And over it all, or under it all, a dull and unlocatable roar, as of some form of swarming life just outside the range of human apprehension.

We surrounded ourselves with smoke and loud noise. That's the way we chose to live. I'm prepared to defend it.

A police car went by with its siren going, a rotary slurping noise, it sounded like the blender in their kitchen—she made fruit shakes compulsively that they felt morally bound to drink.

What if death is nothing but sound?" "Electrical noise." "You hear it forever. Sound all around. How awful." "Uniform, white." -Jack Gladney

It was a period of looks and glances, teeming interactions, part of the sensory array I ordinarily cherish. Heat, noise, lights, looks, words, gestures, personalities, appliances. A colloquial density that makes family life the one medium of sense knowledge in which an astonishment of heart is routinely contained.

In every line of copy we write, we're either serving the customer's story or descending into confusion; we're either making music or making noise.

Why do so many brands create noise rather than music? It's because they don't realize they are creating noise. They actually think people are interested in the random information they're doling out.

How to Create an Irresistible Lead Generator In order to combat noise in today's marketplace, your lead generator must do two things:        1.  Provide enormous value for your customer        2.  Establish you as an authority in your field

There had been no noise from any other part of the apartment, but that did not exclude the possibility of Paola's presence, especially if she had given her soul over to reading. He sometimes told her that Attila could storm through the house and she'd not notice if she were reading. She had most recently disputed this by claiming that it would depend on the book.

I could feel my heart beating, hear the clicks and ticks and hisses of the large elderly building slumbering around me. Everyone was asleep. Even the distant horn-honks and the occasional rattle of trucks out on Fifty-Seventh Street seemed faint and uncertain, as lonely as a noise from another planet.

Once she said the world was an astonishing animal: light was its spirit and noise was its mind. That it was composed to feed on honor, but did not.

You grown-ups are making too much noise! Go play Outside for awhile. February

Muchos espíritus distinguidos, aún hoy, parecen no poder aceptar ni incluso comprender que de una fuente de ruido la selección haya podido, ella sola, sacar todas las músicas de la biosfera.

Music is a medicine for many... Silence is a poison for some...

Y ese ruido? ¡¿No habrás roto la cajita de música?! -¿Cuál? -La que te regaló la abuela, no la habrás roto, ¿no? -Total no era linda. -¡¿Como era?! ¿La rompiste? Te mato, Natacha, abrí la puerta.

I have a strange illusion quite often. I think I've become deaf. I have to make a little noise to prove I'm not. I clear my throat to show myself that everything is normal. It's like the little Japanese girl they found in the ruins of Hiroshima. Everything dead; and she was singing to her doll.

That's when it happened. So fast, in fact, that we didn't even realize it had happened. All we knew was that one instant we were sitting at a lovely outdoor table toasting the beautiful day, and the next our table was on the move, crashing its way through the sea of other tables, banging into innocent bystanders, and making a horrible, ear-piercing, industrial-grade shriek as it scraped over the concrete pavers.

Mary and her six servants shouted louder and louder

Stop knocking that broom against the bar," she screamed. "Goddammit to hell, you making me nervous." "You want quiet sweeping, you get you a old lady. I sweep yawng.

Babbage was a brilliant mathematician but found human beings difficult to deal with. His intolerance of street musicians led to an organized campaign against him: his London home in Portland Place was bombarded by noise at all hours and abusive signs were hung in local shops.

The king of Argos made a noise of disgust. "I'm sick to death of this tale about your marriage bed." "Then perhaps you shouldn't have suggested I tell it." "And perhaps you should get some new stories, so I don't fucking kill myself of boredom.

Can you not just put the seat belt on?" I snap. I can't help it. I have a low threshold for repetitive electronic noises.

Of what avail is the praise or censure of the vulgar, who make a useless noise like a senseless crow in a forest?

from the end of John Shirley's Black Glass, something like: the Singularity guys don't understand, they aren't copying us, our brains, just the noise we make