Quotes About Noises

I've always been vocal in my matches, and I've always made a lot of noises, a lot of random noises.

If you wanted reflections on the nature of the universe and your place in it, you should have stayed in school. You want fart noises and cock jokes, I'm your man.

The universal pervasion of ugliness, hideous landscapes, vile noises, foul language...everything. Unnatural, broken, blasted; the distortion of the dead, whose unburiable bodies sit outside the dug outs all day, all night, the most execrable sights on earth. In poetry we call them the most glorious.

The boat is very close now, its noises filling the air along with the smell of fuel. Mark can see the faint shadow of two people behind the darkened window

The boat is very close now, its noises filling the air along with the smell of fuel. Mark can see the faint shadow of two people behind the darkened window now, and they both appear to be male. They both have short hair, anyway.

Maybe that's all she saw, the end of her suffering, the black, blank silence of the departed. No more bells, no more noises, no more voices and their terrible, disapproving faces. No past, no future, no more sad todays. No tomorrows.

Arthur made nervous noises.

I've heard a tape of collected kakapo noises, and it's almost impossible to believe that it all just comes from a bird, or indeed any kind of animal. Pink Floyd studio out-takes perhaps, but not a parrot.

A little girl can be sweeter (and badder) oftener than anyone else in the world. She can jitter around, and stomp, and make funny noises that frazzle your nerves, yet just when you open your mouth she stands there demure with that special look in her eyes. A girl is Innocence playing in the mud, Beauty standing on its head, and Motherhood dragging a doll by the foot.

The panther is sleek. The panther is sneaky. The panther is covert. Meanwhile, the gorilla will show up and bang on his chest and make noises to warn you about what is about to happen if you continue to cross the line.

Crack! I covered my head, ducked down. Bird didn't laugh. She likened me to a survivor of some traumatic event who is always spooked by certain noises. She just touched my shoulder and said, "It went the other way." I straightened up. "But it was a foul ball." "Yeah." I hated that I kept flinching. I wondered how long it was going to take before I could totally relax at a game.

I went to the door and looked out. The cool night breeze was blowing peacefully down the hall. No excited neighbors hung out of doorways. A small gun had gone off and broken a pane of glass, but noises like that don't mean much any more.

Very often, I don't make it through moments of recording because it is genuinely funny and absolutely ridiculous that a 60-year-old grown man is making these noises.

I yawned and stretched luxuriously in the morning. I make noises when I stretch because it feels ten times better than stretching silently.

Even though I am nearly deaf, I seem to be gifted with a kind of inner hearing which enables me to detect sounds and noises which the ordinary person does not hear.

Sound is the vocabulary of nature... noises are as well articulated as the words in a dictionary... Opposing the world of sound is the world of music.

Fear nothing! Have peace until the morning! Heed no nightly noises!

Only poetry or madness could do justice to the noises.

Very often, I don't make it through moments of recording because it is genuinely funny and absolutely ridiculous that a 60-year-old grown man is making these noises.

Again the dainty handkerchief came into play. Emerson made clucking noises. I said nothing, but drank my whiskey in ladylike silence.

When I was in Milwaukee, I would go into this sneaker shop near my mom's salon and chop it up with the older heads about music. At school, I would make drum noises on the table so much that I would always get suspended.

When you thought about it, silence was rarely silent. Silence was the small noises you heard when the larger noises disappeared.

Rat was talking so seriously, he kept saying to himself mutinously, 'But it WAS fun, though! Awful fun!' and making strange suppressed noises inside him, k-i-ck-ck-ck, and poop-p-p, and other sounds resembling stifled snorts, or

It make any kind of noises?" "What?" "The truck, before it died." "Oh. It sort of went klunk, klunk, klunk, gave one last shudder, then it was gone. You know, it's none of my business, but you could kind of use a new one." "She's a workin' truck." "Well, she ain't really workin'," Abigail said in her best Texas drawl. Wade smirked. "Kick a man while he's down, why don't you.