Quotes About Sound

I wonder what sound a breaking heart makes?

When Janie looked out of her door she saw the drifting mists gathered in the west -- that cloud field of the sky -- to arm themselves with thunders and march forth against the world. Louder and higher and lower and wider the sound and motion spread, mounting, sinking, darking.

The sounds lulled Janie to soft slumber and she woke up with Tea Cake combing her hair

There is a basin in the mind where words float around on thought and thought on sound and sight.Then there is a depth of thought untouched by words, and deeper still a gulf of formless feelings untouched by thought.

There is a basin in the mind where words float around on thought and thought on sound and sight. Then there is a depth of thought untouched by words, and deeper still gulf of formless feeling untouched by thought

Every sound alarms.

If you know Down South production, Roland 808 is in almost everything.

I don't think of my music in terms of a career. I just want to get it out there and do it. I'm not manipulating my sound to be like anybody or trying to write to sound like anybody else.

I found my sound early on. Look at U2: they haven't changed their music for 20 years. Anyway, many people come unstuck when they try to change what they do and what they are known for.

In the U.K., architects train for five years, and they spend one day on sound.

With an arena, it sounds so big and full sometimes it can obstruct the way we sing because we're hearing so much slapback and things like that.

Of all the arts, music is really the most abstract.

The man is mad!" exclaimed Bianchon. "You think so, do you?" said his uncle. "If you listen to only one bell, you hear only one sound.

Nog voor de roep van Cantecleer Klinkt het geraaskal van Endymion Leer.

Al cruzar de una pieza a otra, los pasos hallaban eco en toda la casa, como si un largo abandono hubiera sensibilizado su resonancia.

There might even be the sound of the gospel, but it seemed to contain no glad tidings at all. It did not come from warm lips to startled ears as the message of eternal life – the glorious gospel of the blessed God (1 Timothy 1:11). Men lived, but their minister never asked them whether they were born again!

Henry believes he knows exactly when the ninety-four-year-old woman in the neighbouring apartment dies. He hears her turn off. Until now he has not been able to distinguish her from her appliances – her washing machine, her vacuum cleaner, her radiators, her television. But the moment she gives up the ghost he detects the cessation of a noise of which he was not previously aware. A hum, was it? A whirr? Impossible to say. There is no word for the sound a life makes.

It's one thing to dream, but when the moment is right, you've got to be willing to leave what's familiar and go out to find your own sound

I once met an RAF pilot who told me of what he called a "bird strike". This, rather unfairly in my view, made it sound as if it was the bird's fault; as if the little feathered chap had deliberately tried to head-butt twenty tons of metal travelling in the opposite direction at just under the speed of sound, out of spite.

Cierra los ojos y a obscuras piérdete bajo el follaje rojo de tus párpados. Húndete en esas espirales del sonido que zumba y cae y suena allá, remoto hacia el sitio del tímpano, como una catarata ensordecida. En esa sombra líquida del sueño moja tu desnudez; abandona tu forma, espuma que no se sabe quién dejó en la orilla; piérdete en ti, infinita, en tu infinito ser, mar que se pierde en otro mar; olvídate y olvídame. -Octavio Paz

The second Sterling session saw the birth of one of Hank's trademarks, the "crack" rhythm: an electric guitar keeping time on the deadened bass strings. Without drums in his lineup, Hank used the electric guitar to emphasize the pulse. It was the sound that Johnny Cash later made into a trademark, adding a little rhythmic flourish to make "boom-chicka-boom.

An old bandit adage: A bell is a cup until it is struck.

Ah, the beautiful echoing of a newborn baby's cry.

Beyond the doctor's shoulder was the fire, the fingers of flame making light prestidigitation against the sooty fireback, the soft sound of their random flutter the only sound.