Quotes About Sounds

gospel singing ... is the rawest, sweetest, uninhibited and exquisite sounds a person can make or hear. It isn't music, it's an entire experience you feel and live. A sound to rise you up again.

In Phthia, the consonants were harder than elsewhere, and the vowels wider. It had sounded ugly to me, until I heard Achilles speak.

Habíamos dormido en casas campesinas, humildes, sintiendo el roce de la piedra al lado de la almohada, el correteo de los ratones, el extraño crujir de las camas transportando suspiros desde los cuartos matrimoniales, los pasos balbucientes de un anciano y el sonido de caracola del orinal en la noche, el saúco en lucha contra el viento en la ventana, el ir y el venir de las contraseñas centinelas de los perros.

There were frogs all right, thousands of them. Their voices beat the night, they boomed and barked and croaked and rattled. They sang to the stars, to the waning moon, to the waving grasses. They bellowed long songs and challenges.

There is no family in America without a clock, and consequently there is no fair pretext for the usual Sunday medley of dreadful sounds that issues from our steeples.

When we are waiting, the double trajectory, from the ear that gathers in the sounds to the mind that processes and analyzes them, and from the mind to the heart to which it transmits its results, is so rapid that we are unable even to perceive its duration, and we seem to be listening directly with our hearts.

The sidewalks swarmed with people, the night was full of the noises of the living. They struck Miss Clarvoe's ears strangely, like sounds from another planet.

Listen to the silence of the earth while the lark sings! Have you ever observed the receptive attitude in which Nature seems to wait for sounds divine!

Someone hanging clothes on a line between buildings, someone shaking out a rug from an open window might have heard hammering, one or two blocks away and thought little or nothing of it.

Recordemos que, en apariencia, las palabras son simples signos que se corresponden con unos sonidos, pero que en realidad son conexiones directas a mundos emocionales personales, íntimos e intransferibles

Quién habrá inventado la música? ¿El viento? ¿El mar? ¿La lluvia? ¿Cuándo habrá nacido la armonía? ¿Qué habrá sonado primero? ¿El lenguaje de la brisa o el canto del ruiseñor? Desde

She ignores me, so I cup my hands over my mouth and do something I haven't done in years— barnyard sounds.

The city is courting bites, asks me to polish silver, making sounds fit for no one's ears.

Sparrows in eaves, mice in ceiling - celestial music.

Words aren't just sounds or shapes. They're meaning. That's what language is: a protocol for transferring meaning. When you learn English, you train your brain to react in a particular way to particular sounds. As it turns out, the protocol can be hacked.

Up in the distance the whistle of the wind sang to her from the mountain. From Lucian's mountain. It beckoned and taunted and she wanted to run towards it. To be enveloped in its coat of fleece and to hear its safe sounds.

Somewhere a cicada conversed irritably with the night, then fell silent.

And when in doubt, Josh, follow your heart. Words can be false, images and sounds can be manipulated. But this... This is always true.

Magic is really only the utilization of the entire spectrum of the senses. Humans have cut themselves off from their senses. Now they see only a tiny portion of the visible spectrum, hear only the loudest of sounds, their sense of smell is shockingly poor and they can only distinguish the sweetest and sourest of tastes.

Consider this, music is a collection of sounds and silences, if music was just a constant sound, it would be horrible and difficult to listen to, if music was just silence there would be nothing to listen to. In fact, rests could be easily compared to punctuation, if we ignored commas and full stops then reading and indeed speaking would become chaotic.

I was very much fascinated with the technology we had that we could edit in the computer our compositions, but all the sounds that were available on the market were crap.

Everything that is acknowledges the blessing of existence. Shalt not thou, by a similar acknowledgment, be happy? If thou pay due attention to sounds, thou shalt hear the praise of the Creator celebrated by the whole creation.

The night birds were calling.

I love power. But it is as an artist that I love it. I love it as a musician loves his violin, to draw out its sounds and chords and harmonies.