“The sounds of many were unintelligible and undoubtedly many more called for their parents from whom they were parted by death or by accident. They grasped their tortured limbs, their tiny burning legs until they were no longer able to stand or run. And then they would crash to the ground where they would writhe in the bubbling tar until death released them from their physical misery.” RunningAbleParentSoundMiseryLegsAccidentsTinyBurningCrashLimbs Author:Martin Caidin
“I was staying in a hotel in San Francisco for a couple of nights, before flying back to the UK. My hotel was a desperate grey block made from paper and people’s screams. At night the sound of strangers having icy sex echoed off the building and poured through the broken air conditioning, like tiny daggers I couldn't see, reminding me of just the tip of what I was missing.” PeopleMadeNightSexSoundAirMissingBuildingBrokenCouplePaperStrangerTinyFlyingBlockDesperateHotelStayingScreamGreySan FranciscoConditioningRemindingIcyDaggersAir Conditioning Author:Craig Stone
“There’s only one Earth, and it’s tiny, but evil human leaders avoid problems they don’t want to resolve by giving them names which make the problems sound like they’re taking place in a different world: they make people not care about other people dying of starvation by calling the place the dying live “the third world.” PeopleWorldWantGivingHumansDifferentProblemCareEarthEvilNamesSoundLeaderDyingCallingThirdsTinyResolveStarvationThird WorldDifferent WorldsPeople Dying Author:Craig Stone
“I closed my eyes and listened to the occasional chirps of tiny birds hidden in the trees around us, the bubbling of water over rocks down below, cicadas rattling a chorus off in the distance. All sounds of the world carrying on like it always had. So much could change or be lost, and still, the rest of the world went on like it was nothing. It didn't seem wrong, but it didn't seem right either. I'd gone on today like it was nothing. I'd laughed and felt happy and forgotten for a little while that this was now a world without my brother in it.” WorldLittlesStillsSeemsEyeTodayLostFeltSoundWaterGoneTreeRocksBrotherBirdDistanceForgottenTinyMy BrotherLaughedOccasionalChorusCarrying OnCicadas Author:Jessi Kirby
“For the moment, the jazz is playing; there is no melody, just notes, a myriad tiny tremors. The notes know no rest, an inflexibleorder gives birth to them then destroys them, without ever leaving them the chance to recuperate and exist for themselves.... I would like to hole them back, but I know that, if I succeeded in stooping one, there would only remain in may hand a corrupt and languishing sound. I must accept their death; I must even want that death: I know of few more bitter or intense impressions.” IfsKnowsWantGivingMayMomentsHandsSoundChanceAcceptingMusicBirthMusicianJazzNotesLeavingTinyHolesImpressionIntenseBitterMelody Author:Jean-Paul Sartre