Quotessence
Home / Topics / Ears Quotes

Ears Quotes

Browse 2737 quotes about Ears.

Related topics

EyeIfsPeopleHeartMenSoundThinkingKnowsMindWayWorldVoiceSaidListeningMouthsWantHandsShouldLittlesFeelsTryingWritingMayNeedsSongTwoNosesGivingHeardStillsTongueHumansPlayLooksHearingFacesWellsI CanSpeakSoulYearsFirstsFallDoeBigsBodySilenceLanguageLongBehindsHas BeensKindMomentsArmsMusicChildrenHairNightAbleBelieveWholeLipsMadePersonsSeemsSometimesUseDeafLightWhisperingArtFeetSpiritEndsLifeHardMeanMusic IsCryHeavenIdeasMusicalAgeDogMightRunningStoriesBookMatterMotherMusicianNextDoorsFeelingsKissingMinesNamesPrayerBrainDreammore

Ears Quotes

“But the owls themselves are not hard to find, silent and on the wing, with their ear tufts flat against their heads as they fly and their huge wings alternately gliding and flapping as they maneuver through the trees. Athena's owl of wisdom and Merlin's companion, Archimedes, were screech owls surely, not this bird with the glassy gaze, restless on the bough, nothing but blood on its mind.”

MindHardTreeBloodHugeBirdEarsWingsSilentFlatsCompanionRestlessOwlAthenaGlidingFlapping
Book:Owls and Other Fantasies: Poems and Essays
Create image

“There comes a day of public ceremonial, and a chance to make a speech.... A million voters with IQs below 60 have their ears glued to the radio. It takes four days' hard work to concoct a speech without a sensible word in it. Next a dam must be opened somewhere. Four dry Senators get drunk and make a painful scene. The Presidential automobile runs over a dog. It rains.”

HardRunningNextChanceMillionsFourAtheismDogHard WorkSceneSpeechRainEarsPainfulRadioPositive AtheismDrunkPresidentialDryVotersSensibleSenatorsAutomobileDams
Author:H. L. Mencken
Create image

“I am SHADOW, and my dwelling is near to the Catacombs of Ptolemais, and hard by those dim plains of Helusion which border upon the foul Charonian canal." And then did we, the seven, start from our seats in horror, and stand trembling, and shuddering, and aghast, for the tones in the voice of the shadow were not the tones of any one being, but of a multitude of beings, and, varying in their cadences from syllable to syllable fell duskly upon our ears in the well-remembered and familiar accents of many thousand departed friends.”

WellsHardVoiceHorrorThousandShadowEarsSevenFamiliarRememberedBordersToneSeatsAccentsMultitudesDwellingFoulTremblingSyllablesDepartedCanalsCadenceShudderingAghastDeparted Friends
Book:The Works of the Late Edgar Allan Poe: Poems and tales. Eureka, an essay on the material and spiritual universe
Create image

“My Papa's Waltz: The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother's countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time on my head With a palm caked hard by dirt, Then waltzed me off to bed Still clinging to your shirt.”

StillsHardHandsMotherEasyStepsBoysBedBeatsEarsBreathsShirtsKitchenHungDirtShelvesPalmsWhiskeyEvery StepClingingWristsCountenanceDizzyPapaBatteredKnucklesWaltzBuckles
Book:The Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke
Create image

“What about your freedom?" he whispered in her ear over a minute later, bracing his hands palms down on the wall beside her head. He made no move to stop her as she stroked and petted every inch of that sinfully gorgeous chest, all hard muscle and gleaming skin overlaid with silky-rough strands of dark hair. "Idiot." She nipped his jaw with her teeth. "The only freedom I ever wanted was the right to love you.”

MadeHardHandsWantedMovingDarkMinutesLove YouHairWallSkinsEarsTeethIdiotMusclesRoughChestsInchesPalmsGorgeousStrandsYour FreedomDark Hair
Book:Paranormal Holiday Anthology Trio
Create image

“Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy. To him he was always beautiful, and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. He didn't mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn't matter.”

PeopleMindLittlesMadeRealMatterHardBeautifulLosesBoysMagicWeekGrewShapesEarsSpotsBrownGreyRabbitsFadedNurseryShabbyWhiskers
Book:The Velveteen Rabbit
Create image

“...Zedar was gone...As an owl, though, I was able to drift silently from tree to tree until I caught up with him...He wasn't really hard to follow, since he'd conjured up a dim, greenish light to see by --and to hold off the boogiemen. Did I ever tell you that Zedar's afraid of the dark? That adds another dimension to his present situation, doesn't it? He was bundled to the ears in furs, and he was muttering to himself as he floundered along through the snow. Zedar talks to himself a lot. He always has. ...I drifted to a nearby tree and watched him --owlishly. Sorry. I couldn't resist that.”

HardLightAbleDarkSituationGoneTreeEarsAddSorryCaughtSnowDimensionsCaught UpFurOwlMutteringPresent Situation
Author:David Eddings
Create image

“It was at first almost as if he hadn't wanted to kiss her. His mouth was hard on hers, unyielding; then he put both arms around her and pulled her against him. His lips softened. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, taste the sweetness of apples still on his mouth. She wound her hands into his hair, as she'd wanted to do since the first time she'd seen him. His hair curled around her fingers, silky and fine. Her heart was hammering, and there was a rushing sound in her ears, like beating wings”

IfsFeelsFirstsHeartStillsHardHandsWantedSoundHairArmsFineTasteKissingBeatsMouthsFirst TimeEarsWingsFingersLipsWoundsApplesSweetnessJaceRapidsRushingClary FrayUnyielding
Book:Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instruments Series (5 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass; City of Fallen Angels, City of Lost Souls
Create image

“Still sitting, he reached out and pulled me toward him. We stayed there, looking at each other, his hand still wrapped in my shirt hem, my heart hammering so hard I was sure he could hear it. when I inched closer, not wanting to intrude, he tugged me in front of him and I stumbled, half falling onto his lap. I tried to scramble up, cheeks burning, but he pulled me down onto his knee, one army going around my waist, tentative, as if to say Is this okay? It was, even if my blood pounded in my ears so hard I couldn't think.”

IfsThinkingHeartStillsHardHandsFallHalfBloodFrontsMy HeartSittingOkayEarsArmyBurningKneesShirtsCheeksLapHem
Author:Kelley Armstrong
Create image

“The cycle hit the beach and spun out. Emma went into a rolling crouch as she flew free of it, keeping her elbows in, pushing the air hard out of her lungs. She turned her head as she hit the sand, slapping her palms down to roll herself forward, absorbing the impact of the fall through her arms and shoulders, her knees folding up into her chest. The stars wheeled crazily overhead as she spun, sucking in her breath as her body slowed its rolling. She came to a stop on her back, her hair and clothes full of sand and her ears full of the sound of the wildly crashing ocean.”

HardBodyFallStarsSoundAirHairArmsOceanClothesEarsBreathsImpactShouldersBeachKneesSandPushingCyclesChestsRollingPalmsLungsFlewAbsorbingElbowsEmmaOverheadSpunFoldingSlapping
Author:Cassandra Clare
Create image

“Adulthood isn't an award they'll give you for being a good child. You can waste years, trying to get someone to give that respect to you, as though it were a sort of promotion or raise in pay. If only you do enough, if only you are good enough. No. You have to just take it. Give it to yourself, I suppose. Say, I'm sorry you feel like that and walk away. But that's hard”

IfsGivingFeelsTryingChildrenHardEnoughWalksPayWasteEarsRaisesSorryMaturityGood EnoughAwardsAdulthoodI'm SorryPromotion
Author:Lois McMaster Bujold
Create image

“This song of the waters is audible to every ear, but there is other music in these hills, by no means audible to all. On a still night, when the campfire is low and the Pleiades have climbed over rimrocks, sit quietly and listen, and think hard of everything you have seen and tried to understand. Then you may hear it - a vast pulsing harmony - its score inscribed on a thousand hills, its notes the lives and deaths of plants and animals, its rhythms spanning the seconds and the centuries.”

ThinkingLifeMayMeanStillsHardNightSongWaterNatureAnimalCenturyListeningThousandLowsEarsHarmonyPlantNotesRhythmHillsScoreLife And DeathSecondsPlants And AnimalsCampfire
Author:Aldo Leopold
Create image

“Nothing is more dangerous in wartime than to live in the temperamental atmosphere of a Gallup Poll, always feeling ones pulse and taking ones temperature. I see that a speaker at the week-end said that this was a time when leaders should keep their ears to the ground. All I can say is that the British nation will find it very hard to look up to leaders who are detected in that somewhat ungainly posture.”

ShouldLooksSaidI CanWarEndsHardFeelingsNationsLeaderWeekDangerousEarsBritishAtmosphereLook UpSpeakersPollsTemperaturePulsePostureWartimeWeek End
Book:The Churchill War Papers: The Ever-Widening War 1941
Create image