Quotes About Echo

You can't spend so much time in a place and not carry a bit of it inside you.

No one can increase the volume in the pulpit to such a level as to muffle the echo of lost convictions.

When one thinks what one leaves in the world when one dies, Only silence is strong, - all the rest is but lies.

The wildest sound ever heard makes the woods ring far and wide.

While his one live leg made lively echoes along the deck, every stroke of his dead limb sounded like a coffin-tap. On life and death this old man walked.

The world is held together by lies. When I paint, I'm searching for the truth between them, but I'm no better at this than anyone else. Worse, probably.

Cosmic Ordering is like an echo! What you ask for comes back.

The phrase It's absolutely the same with me, I... seems to be an approving echo, a way of continuing the other's thought, but that is an illusion: in reality it is a brute revolt against a brutal violence, an effort to free our own ear from bondage and to occupy the enemy's ear by force. Because all of man's life among his kind is nothing other than a battle to seize the ear of others.

If we cannot accept the importance of the world, which considers itself important, if in the midst of that world our laughter finds no echo, we have but one choice: to take the world as a whole and make it the object of our game; to turn it into a toy

semantic river: each time the same object would give rise to a new meaning, though all former meanings would resonate (like an echo, like a parade of echoes) together with the new one. Each new experience would resound, each time enriching the the harmony.

Familial love can find an echo in our own hearts just as it did in that of Charles Dickens.

I die a little, In the echo of your silence.

Sooner or later, every last echo fades. Even the loudest thunder in the deepest valley.

The echo of birdcalls was sharp and ghostly, sounding out of the silence in forlorn reverberation across the wider expanse of the lakes before disappearing into the dark maze of the surrounding woods. Mist clung in thick blankets to the mountaintops. The air was sharp and clear, and you could see the details of clefts in the rocks of snow-cropped defiles that were miles away.

No one remembers the singer. The song remains.

There is no love that is not an echo.

Who sighs from far away?

Genius knocks on the door and gets no answer but its own echo.

His words hung around, too, leaving their brain stain on the air.

Your only mistake then was in trusting the people who brought you here." I will hear this remark for the rest of my life: it will echo along the walls of my mind until all sound stops for me.

The dead leave their shadows, an echo of the space within which once they lived. They haunt us, never fading or growing older as we do. The loss we grieve is not just their futures but our own.

There is no pattern the human mind can devise that does not exist already within the bounds of nature...Everything we do, see, write, notate, all are an echo of the deep seams of the universe. Music is the invisible world made visible through sound.

And in the air around her, the echo of all those stifled hearts, trapped spirits, fluttered and sighed and breathed.

Complaint always comes back in an echo from the ends of the world; but silence strengthens us.