Quotes About Echo

Writing a book of poetry is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.

The heels of military boots, striking marble floors, made a sound like thrown stones.

Nos admira que un esqueleto haya tenido vida, que esos ojos vacíos hayan mirado con amor; pero también nos sorprende a ratos que nuestro corazón haya poseído lo que ya no tiene y que se haya estremecido con melodiosas vibraciones ante estímulos que no le arrancan ya eco alguno.

Sometimes your words come back to me like a distant echo, like the sound of a bell carried by the wind, and when I read love passages in. books, it seems to me that it is you about whom I am reading.

Ponekad mi se vaše re?i vra?aju u svest kao daleki odjek, kao zvuk zvona koji donosi vetar; i ?ini mi se da ste tu, kraj mene, kad u knjigama ?itam odlomke koji govore o ljubavi.

Ennek a reggelnek tiszta fényében szívük egymás hangját visszhangozta.

Eine Stimme aus anderen Zeiten gehört in einen Friedhof anderer Zeiten.

It's not the dead even. They're gone. Nothing you can do about that. It's what's left behind - the echo. These woods you're walking through. There are some old timers who think a sound echoes here forever. Makes sense when you think about it. That Billingham kid. I'm sure he screamed. He screams, it echoes, just bounces back and forth, the sound getting smaller and smaller, but never entirely disappearing. Like a part of his is still calling out, even now.

Marcia started up the stairs to the second floor. The lights were dimmer on this level. Her footsteps clacked and echoed against the stillness of a building that during the day knew so much life and energy. There is no place more surreal, more hollow and empty, than a school corridor at night

None of us are truly contained. Death ripples, echoes.

If you're in a forest, the quality of the echo is very strange because echoes back off so many surfaces of all those trees that you get this strange, itchy ricochet effect.

She had set it on the Internet, its own peculiar echo chamber.

I am a nobody. ... Treat me as a solar myth, or an echo, or an irrational quantity, or ignore me altogether.

It is not enough for us to merely continue to talk about and contribute to the echo chamber of white noise of what's wrong with America or for candidates to spout off silly poll-tested talking points about national security or foreign policy.

I could feel the ghosts of all the girls I'd been behind me in the alleyway, creeping in my wake. I could almost hear my own footsteps as an echo. For a moment it was so real that I spooked myself. I stopped and turned to look. There was only silence and darkness. I walked on.

She had been driving all afternoon, her head an echo chamber in which both spoken words and unspoken thoughts steadily collide, one-legged runners on America's highways.

I feel so alone," she said. "You don't realize how much space someone takes up until they're gone and there's too much emptiness. This place never echoed before. Now it does." She was mystified.

Only a single bird is singing. The air is cloning it. We hear through mirrors.

The maple-bordered street was as still as a country Sunday; so quiet that there seemed an echo to my footsteps. It was four o'clock in the morning; clear October moonlight misted through the thinning foliage to the shadowy sidewalk and lay like a transparent silver fog upon the house of my admiration, as I strode along, returning from my first night's work on the "Wainwright Morning Despatch.

He felt his solitude like the muffled echo of that of the victims. Well before the Interahamwe arrived, everyone was already alone, torn between anguish and absurd hopes.

The journey I'm taking is inside me. Just like blood travels down veins, what I'm seeing is my inner self and what seems threatening is just the echo of the fear in my heart.

The song is over. But the melody lingers on.

You throw a stone into a deep pond. Splash. The sound is big, and it reverberates throughout the surrounding area. What comes out of the pond after that? All we can do is stare at the pond, holding our breath.

Even after the ringing stopped, the sound of the bell lingered through the evening gloom like the dust floating in the air.