Quotes About Sounds

My ultimate getaway is Vietnam. It has a little bit of everything when it comes to culture, amazing food, beautiful people, exotic sights, sounds and profound history of love, bravery and resilience.

The silence was gone now, and the night was filled with voices—a chirp, a growl, a twitter—a burst of high-pitched laughter.

I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, The manifold, soft charms, That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, Like some old poet's rhymes.

Coyotes began yipping, their chorus of cries echoing into the distant Marble mountains.

Ever heard a pack of wolves growling in anger? It's less than restful.

Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.

Give the instruments a chance - their sounds are quite beautiful.

The piano sounds became a roar, like an ocean of music crashing against the dark tile walls.

The vampires did make sounds then, as their quarry started to flee - little whispers, laughs, strange hisses, all kinds of creepy noises that made the skin on the back of Claire's neck tighten up.

That night, the sky poured out such torrents that the city was a drum set, every surface a source of rhythms, pavements and windows and canvas awnings, street signs and parked cars, Dumpsters throbbing like tom-toms, garbage-can lids swishing as the wind swirled bursts of rain in imitation of a drummer brush-stroking the batter head of a snare.

the building seeming filled with machine sounds, as if the robots of the Apocalypse were being manufactured here.

He didn't see them, but he heard them pitter-pattering across the beams and flooring in the attic. The place had been empty for some months, and the rodents had taken up residence. They

Are you hearing unusual sounds or voices?" the doctor asked. "Help us, oh God, it hurts," the boxes of cotton screamed. "Not exactly," I said.

All the sounds of the house, from the creak of the back stair under an early-rising maid's foot, to the drumming rain on the roofslates, were sounds he had heard a thousand times before; heard so often, he didn't hear them anymore. I did.

It's true, I did write - but it's probably not as dramatic as it sounds.

It's hard for me to use any electronic sounds at all, really. I'm always just layering acoustic sounds.

El mar es] una inmensidad que no piensa. Sólo se mueve una, otra y otra vez. Y otra más. Año tras año, siglo tras siglo. Sí, majestuoso, pero siempre muere aquí, a los pies de quienes vienen a contemplarlo. Mañana será lo mismo. Y el día en que arrasa, mata y siembre la destrucción no sabe por qué lo hace. Si de sonidos se trata, prefiero la risa de un niño o el estertor de un anciano.

Confucius himself has repeatedly taught that external appurtenances are as little a part of propriety as sounds are of music.

How came the bodies of animals to be contrived with so much art, and for what ends were their several parts? Was the eye contrived without skill in Opticks, and the ear without knowledge of sounds?...and these things being rightly dispatch'd, does it not appear from phænomena that there is a Being incorporeal, living, intelligent...?

A world without music is just a world full of noises that don't make sense.

Shiny musical instruments wailed, their mouths open like lilies.

Every silence consists of the network of minuscule sounds that enfolds it." - from "The Adventure of a Poet

That echo. It played in his head at unexpected moments, repeating certain sounds and making nonsense of them. But could you remember an echo? Memory itself was like another kind of echo, everything duplicating endlessly, in shadow versions of itself.

He had a rich, deep baritone voice, and he knew how to use it. To drown out all thoughts. To drown out other voices. To drown out sounds that she didn't want him to hear, to drown out sounds he knew she didn't want him to hear—