Quotes About Sound

Suppose these hours are composed of ourselves, So that they become an impalpable town, full of Impalpable bells, transparencies of sound. Sounding in transparent dwellings of the self, Impalpable habitations that seem to move In the movement of the colors of the mind. Confused illuminations and sonorities, So much ourselves, we cannot tell apart the idea and bearer - being of the idea....

The truth is that there comes a time When we can mourn no more over music That is so much motionless sound

It matters, because everything we say Of the past is description without place, a cast Of the imagination, made in sound; And because what we say of the future must portend, Be alive with its own seemings, seeming to be Like rubies reddened by rubies reddening.

Und nun verstand ich es, das Geheimnis der Musik, ich verstand, warum sie allen anderen Künsten so turmhoch überlegen ist: Es ist ihre Körperlosigkeit. Wenn sie sich einmal von ihrem Instrument gelöst hat, dann gehört sie wieder ganz sich selbst, ist ein eigenständiges freies Geschöpf aus Schall, schwerelos, körperlos, vollkommen rein und in völligem Einklang mit dem Universum.

the quality of the sounds, and how capable the blend of those sounds was of exciting emotions hidden in the hearts of the audience.

Empty hills, no one in sight,only the sound of someone talking;late sunlight enters the deep wood,shining over the green moss again.

Form itself, even if completely abstract ... has its own inner sound.

I demand wisdom from my fingers: at least they must sound human, and not like spoons and forks! The piano, however, is not a human being. It lies halfway between a friend and a rock. More responsive than a rock. More predictable than a friend.

But the room is cold, the words in the books are cold; And the question of whether we get what we ask for Is absurd, unanswered by the sound of an unlatched door Rattling in wind, or the sound of snow on roofs, or glare Of the winter sun. What we have learned is not what we were told. I watch the snow, feel for the heartbeat that is not there.

A Small Prayer" Change, move, dead clock, that this fresh day May break with dazzling light to these sick eyes. Burn, glare, old sun, so long unseen, That time may find its sound again, and cleanse Whatever it is that a wound remembers After the healing ends.

Do you not then hear this horrible scream all around you that people usually call silence.

I can even hear the sun. It sounds like a jet taking off in the middle of the night.

The call of the yellow-billed cuckoo of North America is often mistaken for a bloodhound drinking a bowl of milk. He goes coulp coulp coulp.

her little cat voice.

Active, living speech is just such a gesture, a vocal gesticulation wherein the meaning is inseparable from the sound, the shape, and the rhythm of the words.

in which great difficulties are found to the present day by Englishmen, whose language presents no certain laws for rendering any given sound into a fixed combination of letters.

Little booooooy," the man said, a taunting and creepy call. Definitely him - Thomas couldn't forget that voice. "Little girrrrrrrrl. Come out come out make a sound make sound. I want your noses.

Klunk's another word for poo. Poo makes a klunk sound when it falls in our pee pots." Thomas looked at Chuck, unable to believe he was having this conversation. "That's nice" was all he could manage.

Another pop, this time followed by the tinkle of glass sprinkling on the floor.

The low bump-bump-bump suddenly seemed to come from everywhere at once, the echoes bouncing back and forth between the alley walls.

But then their laughter was cut off by a strange sound. Something Mark hadn't heard in over a year, and hadn't expected to hear ever again. The sound of engines in the sky.

Her voice was weak, too much air and not enough sound.

His own life made very little noise of its own, and he found that in silence there was something downright perilous: It had enemies in it that only sound could drive out.

Music is the space between the notes as much as the notes themselves; it's defined as much by silence as by sound.