Quotes About Sound

Thus the Government of our Virtue was broken and I exchang'd the Place of Friend for that unmusical harsh-sounding Title of Whore.

Since everything is an epitome of all things for all people, even memory or idea of a thing can surely bring about agitation because of the excitement of innumerable kinds of experiences like sound etc. lying subconsciously in the omnifarious mind.

In Ishmael I articulated a living mythology that is so integral to our culture that it's never examined or even noticed by anyone. It's like the sound of blood rushing through your veins—you hear it so constantly that you don't hear it at all.

To me, country music's about life. It's about Monday through Friday. It's the blue-collar, 40-hour week, songs about life. It used to have more of a sound, but I think the heart of that's still the same. It's still American music.

The sound of the words as they're said is always different from the sound they make when they're heard, because the speaker hears some of the sound from the inside

I alone of English writers have consciously set myself to make music out of what I may call the sound of sense.

So for my studio purposes, I know that I'm in my studio with technicians who've done amazing things to my board and to my power amps and I know what I can deliver out of my studio.

The sounds of anger are not melodic.

Aunt Beulah could hear the dust motes collide in a sunbeam; she could hear spiders chewing on flies.

Everyone thinks I named my cat Mango because of his orange eyes, but that's not the case. I named him Mango because the sounds of his purrs and his wheezes and his meows are all various shades of yellow-orange.

wave of sound swept over the ring as every man in the convocation shouted together.

The English intellect is sound, so far as it goes,but it has one grave defect--it is always cautious in the wrong place.

What a strange instrument a tuba is. I wonder how many different shapes they twisted that metal into until they realized that a tuba's shape was the exact one they needed to make that exact sound.

The noiseless wheels of my car rush with a crackling sound over dried leaves as I bow and pass smiling.

the faucet of June that rings the triangle of the air

I asked him, What do you do? He smiled patiently, The typical American question. In Europe they would ask, What are you doing? Or, What are you doing now? What do I do? I listen, to the water falling. (No sound of it here but with the wind!) This is my entire occupation.

Then Ben wailed again, hopeless and prolonged. It was nothing. Just sound. It might have been all time and injustice and sorrow become vocal for an instant by a conjunction of planets.

Even sound seemed to fail in this air, like the air was worn out with carrying sounds so long.

only the peak feels so sound and stable that the beginning of the falling is hidden for a little while...

The clock tick-tocked, solemn and profound. It might have been the dry pulse of the decaying house itself, after a while it whirred and cleared its throat and struck six times.

You can be oblivious to the sound for a long while, then in a second of ticking it can create in the mind unbroken the long diminishing parade of time you didn't hear.

you wanted to sublimate a piece of natural human folly into a horror and then exorcise it with truth and i it was to isolate her out of the loud world so that it would have to flee us of necessity and then the sound of it would be as though it had never been

A pair of jaybirds came up from nowhere, whirled up on the blast like gaudy scraps of cloth or paper and lodged in the mulberries, where they swung in raucous tilt and recover, screaming into the wind that ripped their harsh cries onward and away like scraps of paper or of cloth in turn.

dont suppose anybody ever deliberately listens to a watch or a clock. You dont have to. You can be oblivious to the sound for a long while, then in a second of ticking it can create in the mind unbroken the long diminishing parade of time you didn't hear.