Quotes About Echo

I have only these words that seem as if they climbed up from the bottom of a dry well.

The sound of a kiss is not as strong as that of a cannon, but its echo endures much longer.

Dark echo chambers did that to you, squeezed those suppressed childhood nightmares from under your bed into your present.

Because every time she looked at me, she saw him, our son, that generous boy, and it was another gut punch bending her over, another parting of her flesh, and I was one of the thousand, and my gift to her now was my echo. (from "Twenty Reasons to Stay and One to Leave")

Talking with a Martian is something like talking with an echo. You don't get any argument but you don't get results either.

Talking with a Martian is something like talking with an echo. You don't get any argument but you don't get results either.

But even when he wasn't around, he was.

I remember how when I felt lonely, I would whisper her name— our name—and hold my breath, waiting for an echo, certain that it would come someday.

Révèle ton secret au vent, mais ne lui reproche pas de le répéter aux arbres.

Gladness is intoxicating. I fire my gun and an unforgettable echo answers from crag to crag, floats out over the sea and rings in some sleepless helmsman's ears. What am I glad about? A thought that comes to me, a memory, a sound in the forest, a human being. I think of her—I close my eyes and stand still on the road and think of her, counting the minutes.

When you're singing you can hear the echo of people in the audience singing every single word with you, and that was that big dream that I had for myself. It's happening.

Echo. Into the night. Man. O rocky voice Shall we in that great night rejoice? What do we know but that we face One another in this place? But hush, for I have lost the theme Its joy or night seem but a dream; Up there some hawk or owl has struck Dropping out of sky or rock, A stricken rabbit is crying out And its cry distracts my thought. [...]and set my boyish lips to say, 'Only the wasteful virtues earn the sun

I never knew it before but now I know—and you, too, know—that laughter may be of different colors, Laughter is but a distant echo of an explosion within us; it may be the echo of a holiday—red, blue, and golden fireworks—or at times it may represent pieces of human flesh exploded into the air.…

Mai inainte n-am stiut - acum stiu, dupa cum stiti si voi: rasul poate avea culori diferite. Nu este decat ecoul indepartat al exploziei din interiorul vostru: poate sunt rachete de sarbatoare - rosii, albastre, aurii, poate au sarit in sus franturi de trup omenesc...

I had never known this before, but now I do and so do you: Laughter comes in different colours. It is only the distant echo of an explosion inside you. It might come in holiday colours—red, blue, golden rockets. or it might be the bits of a human body flying out...

laughter comes in different colors. It is only the distant echo of an explosion occurring inside you: it might be festive rockets of red, blue, gold, or it might be shreds of human bodies flying upward

This is like deja vu all over again.

It was déjà vu all over again.

It's like deja-vu, all over again.

It's déjà vu all over again.

Life is an echo. What you send out comes back. What you sow you reap. What you give you get. What you see in others exists in you.

A voice came to him as if from a dark, empty well lined with moss. A voice saying his name, telling him to answer a question.

the tower was breathing. The tower breathed, and the walls when I went to touch them carried the echo of a heartbeat Ã¢â'¬Â¦ and they were not made of stone but of living tissue

I hear his call still, echoing down the centuries. It sounded like a warning. It sounded like a death knell. It sounded, most of all, like laughter.