Quotes About Sound

He heard the sound of waves striking the shore, and it was as though the surging of his young blood was keeping time with the movement of the sea's great tides. It was doubtless because nature itself satisfied his need that Shinji felt no particular lack of music in his everyday life.

No one's words can compete with this mercilessly powerful rain. The only thing that can compete with the sound of this rain, that can smash this deathlike wall of sound, is the shout of a man who refuses to stoop to this chatter, the shout of a simple spirit that knows no words.

The bats live in a world of echoes. Just as in the human world every object has a characteristic shape and colour, so in the bat world every object has its echo-pattern. A bat can tell the difference between a tasty moth species and a poisonous moth species by the different echoes returning from their slender wings.

Whales can hear one another from hundreds of kilometres away, and each whale has a repertoire of characteristic 'songs' that may last for hours and follow very intricate patterns. Every now and then a whale composes a new hit, which other whales throughout the ocean adopt.

when he walks, he sounds like a tree still full of dead leaves holding on.

Knock on the sky and listen to the sound.

Maan musiikin synnyttävät siis erilaiset onkalot; ihmisten musiikki syntyy bambupillistä, mutta rohkenenko kysyä, mitä on taivaan musiikki? Tuuli puhaltaa kymmenellätuhannella eri tavalla ja jokainen ääni syntyy omalla tavallaan. Tämä tapahtuu luonnostaan, mutta kenen käskystä ne syntyvät?

Intent is in the composer, interpretation is in the conductor, rendering is in the instrumentalist, perception is in the listener, sound is in the notes, and rhythm is in the intervals. Music is the harmonious relationship between them all. Relationship is beauty.

no one is around to hear it? Obviously not. The crash vibrates air molecules, but sound needs hearing in order for these vibrations to be transformed into perception.

Sound unbound by nature becomes bounded by art.

To transform a grimace into a sound sounds impossible, yet it is possible to transform a vision into music, to go outside an enslaved personality, to become impersonal by transforming into sand, into water, into light.

As a vessel is known by its sound whether it be cracked or not, so men are proved by their speeches whether they be wise or foolish.

How cool would it have been to live back when the wind and birds and avalanches sounded like Black Sabbath, and killing gave people these huge fucking hard-ons?

Then there was only the sound of the rain outside in the endless blackness of the long night and, presently, the rising tones of a pitiful wailing within and without, spreading across the station, the town, and the land without end.

There is a place called reality. It is a place where people use doors instead of windows. Where, when you click a sound is made not a flame. Where, a shadow is a thing created by the sun, not a weapon. Where, your reflection stays in the mirror. And where skeletons don't walk and talk. But you can escape this place. You just have to have one thing. Imagination.

There is a place called reality. It is a place where people use doors instead of windows. Where, when you click a sound is made not a flame. Where, a shadow is a thing created by the sun, not a weapon. Where, your reflection stats in the mirror. And where skeletons don't walk and talk. But you can escape this place. You just have to have one thing. Imagination.

Useless knowledge can be made directly contributory to a force of sound and disinterested public opinion.

Nevertheless, I consider OOP as an aspect of programming in the large; that is, as an aspect that logically follows programming in the small and requires sound knowledge of procedural programming.

Ellington is a writer and arranger, as well as a musician and leader. He does movie sound tracks.

Thinking and spoken discourse are the same thing, except that what we call thinking is, precisely, the inward dialogue carried on by the mind with itself without spoken sound.

I was 17 and just learning what high fidelity was, what good sound was, and learning the mechanics of tape machines. It was a real education, going right from the consumer end to the record factory.

The empty vessel makes the loudest sound.

He sat up abruptly in bed, stifled another cough. Someone was in his lighthouse. More than one person. Whispering. Or maybe even shouting, the sound by the time it infiltrated the brick and stone, the wood and steel, brought to him through a distance, a time, that he couldn't know. The irrational thought that he was hearing the ghosts of dozens of lighthouse keepers all at once, in a kind of threnody, the condensed chorus of a century. Another phantom sound?

At the top of the heap is poetry,at least as it used to be written.Nothing else goes far,nothing goes as deep n the blood and soul.Shakespeare surpasses Beethoven because he had sound and meaning.Always remember that as you get older.Poetry is in the emprean,TV is in the pit