Quotes About Sounds

But the constant motion of the flames soon lulled him into a passive state where unrelated fragments of thoughts, sounds, images, and emotions drifted through him like snowflakes falling from a calm winter's sky.

If you didn't have a real good imagination you'd probably think those noises were the sounds of some kid blowing a horn for the first time, but I knew better than that. I could tell those were the squeaks and squawks of one door closing and another one opening.

Astfel este magia vorbirilor omeneÅŸti, care prin înÅ£elegere omeneasc? însemneaz? adesea, cu sunete egale, lucruri deosebite.

And there had even been room in his head for the rustling of leaves, the light of the moon, millet porridge with milk, the sound of flames in the stove, snatches of tunes, the barking of dogs, the Roman Senate, Soviet Information Bureau bulletins, a hatred of slavery, and a love of melon seeds.

The air was electric with sounds—bugs, birds, monkeys—and the sky was the color of fresh blood. A tangerine sun played hide-and-seek through the trees.

white! Total overload! The hangar sounds

His habitual mood was one of fearful joy contending with a ragged cloud of nervous apprehensions, and accompanying this was a train of extremely intense sensations proceeding from well-known sounds and sights and smells.

Not many sounds in life, and I include all urban and rural sounds, exceed in interest a knock at the door.

I USED TO LOVE this season. The wood stacked by the door, the tang of its sap still speaking of forest. The hay made, all golden in the low afternoon light. The rumble of the apples tumbling into the cellar bins. Smells and sights and sounds that said this year it would be all right: there'd be food and warmth for the babies by the time the snows came.

The little owls call to each other with tremulous, quavering voices throughout the livelong night, as they sit in the creaking trees.

It was the hour when darkness begins, when the sounds of the night begin.

the water sounds like fall. Less celebratory, more resigned.

Everything becomes magnified at night. Sounds travel in a different way, it's dark, and everything seems far more spooky.

I like to create the music I hear in my interior. As a conductor, you have the ability to squeeze the sounds and interpretation you asked for from 50 to 80 people.

Brute animals have the vowel sounds; man only can utter consonants.

I know in London a Welsh hairdresser who has striven so vehemently to abolish his accent that he sounds like a man speaking with the Elgin marbles in his mouth.

I like math, which sounds really nerdy.

I feel like the U.K. is a better breeding ground for pop, partially because the radio play is more broad and open to new ideas and sounds.

The Constitution is awesome, but still overrated; it's like Pet Sounds.

The Constitution is awesome, but still overrated; it's like Pet Sounds. The

music is the arithmetic of sounds as optics is the geometry of light

Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.

Music, I regret to say, affects me merely as an arbitrary succession of more or less irritating sounds. Under certain emotional circumstances I can stand the spasms of a rich violin, but the concert piano and all wind instruments bore me in small doses and flay me in larger ones.

It was very pleasant to savor its aroma, for smells have the power to evoke the past, bringing back sounds and even other smells that have no match in the present. -Tita