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Sounds Quotes

Browse 75 quotes about Sounds.

Sounds Quotes

“Failure to put the relationship on a slower timetable may result in an act that was never intended in the first place. Another important principle is to avoid the circumstances where compromise is likely. A girl who wants to preserve her virginity should not find herself in a house or dorm room alone with someone to whom she is attracted. Nor should she single-date with someone she has reason not to trust. A guy who wants to be moral should stay away from the girl he knows would go to bed with him. Remember the words of Solomon to his son, “Keep to a path far from her, do not go near the door of her house” (Proverbs 5:8). I know this advice sounds very narrow in a day when virginity is mocked and chastity is considered old-fashioned. But I don’t apologize for it. The Scriptures are eternal, and God’s standards of right and wrong do not change with the whims of culture. He will honor and help those who are trying to follow His commandments. In fact, the apostle Paul said, “He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear” (1Corinthians 10:13). Hold that promise and continue to use your head. You’ll be glad you did.”

KnowsShouldTryingMayImportantReasonUseGuyCultureGirlHouseChangeMoralPathRelationshipAdviceTrustSonFailureHonorCircumstancesPromiseBedEternalStandardsWordsGladAloneCompromiseWrongYouHelpRightCommandmentsDayWillOld FashionedTemptedActNeverScripturesChastityPlaceVirginityNotDoToWantsHerDoorBeHeadFirstAndIsSheFollowGoAvoidSolomonStaySomeoneResultPrincipleYourCanHeHimWithAwayWhoAreKeepBeyondBearVerySoundsHoldPaulContinueWouldThosePreserveNearDidLetGod SLikelyNarrowApostleAttractedConsideredWhimsWhomIntendedMockedYou LlSlowerProberbsRemeber1corinthiansSingle DateWhat You
Book:Life on the Edge: The Next Generation's Guide to a Meaningful Future
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“On building homes for fallen angels: When I was small - I sought a home, a place to go and rest my bones. Then founded something, of my own, I lived among the restless stones. If seeking leads you back to evil, what good is that, I asked a weevil. He said a home is what you make, it can't be real, if it is fake... And if you wait instead of seek, will you find love, or something bleak? I know (myself) for I have found, a beauty, hidden – in a sound. Waiting is boring. And so is exploring. A smile is sometimes all it takes. And then your whole world simply breaks.”

LoveChildrenRealSometimesHomeRealityBeautifulWaitingSoundSimpleBeautyMusicFamilyKnowledgeLivingDiscoveryFoundationSeekingBoringBonesFakeBoredomExplorationHidingDiscoveringOwnershipSelf KnowledgeExploringWholenessFoundingRestlessNothingPlaceRestlessnessBleakKnowledge Of SelfSomethingLittleHiddenEntiretySoundsFindingBreakingTakingSimplyBleaknessResting
Book:Nothing is here...
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“Sounds" Few are the sounds that deepen and enrich silence .. There are sounds without which silence remains incomplete, like a ticking clock or the sudden sound of a cycling fridge… The chirping roaches and cicadas, or croaking frogs… Then there are those sounds that make existence more alienating and unbearable, like the scuffle of a big insect against a window or a door as if committing suicide! Or a creaking rusty door we close behind a departing loved one, knowing deep inside that they won’t return and nothing would be the same after closing that door.. The whistling sound of a kettle declaring that peace and tranquility are illusions that never last… There are also those sounds that summarize the traumas of the past from which hearers never recover, like the screams and cries of the woman next door when beaten by her husband… The coughing, spitting, and heavy breathing of an elderly woman we visited in our childhood… And can we ever forget the sounding sirens of the ships and trains declaring that departure is inevitable? [Original poem published in Arabic on September 15, 2023 at ahewar.org]”

SilenceMemoryTraumaMeaning Of LifeTranquilityArabic PoetryVoicesSoundsVoices Inside Your HeadThe Journey Of Life
Author:Louis Yako
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“Now, remember: they're not for eating, but for listening, because you'll often be hungry for sounds as well as food. Here are street noises at night, train whistles from a long way off, dry leaves burning, busy department stores, crunching toast, creaking bed springs, and of course, all kinds of laughter. There's a little of each, and in far off, lonely places, I think you will be glad to have them.”

JoyAppreciationSounds
Book:The phantom tollbooth
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“Who are you? What’s your name?” “Mi Mi.” “Do you hear that thumping noise?” “No.” “It must be here somewhere.” Tin Win knelt down. Now it was nearly next to his ear. “I hear it more and more distinctly. A soft pulsing. You really don’t hear it?” “No.” “Close your eyes.” Mi Mi closed her eyes. “Nothing,” she said, and laughed. Tin Win leaned over and felt her breath on his face. “I think it’s coming from you.” He crept closer to her and held his head just in front of her chest. There it was. Her heartbeat.”

LoveHeartHeartbeatSounds
Book:The Art of Hearing Heartbeats
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“I looked toward the small vent in the corner of the ceiling through which the music entered my cell. The source must have been far away, for it was just a faint stirring of notes, but when I closed my eyes, I could hear it more clearly. I could... see it. As if it were a grand painting, a living mural. There was beauty in the music- beauty and goodness. The music folded over itself like batter being poured from a bowl, one note atop another, melting together to form a whole, rising, filling me. It wasn't wild music, but there was a violence of passion in it, a swelling kind of joy and sorrow. I pulled my knees to my chest, needing to feel the sturdiness of my skin, even with the slime of the oily paint upon it. The music built a path, an ascent founded upon archways of colour. I followed it, walking out of that cell, through layers of earth, up and up- into fields of cornflowers, past a canopy of trees, and into the open expanse of sky. The pulse of the music was like hands that gently pushed me onward, pulling me higher, guiding me through the clouds. I'd never seen clouds like these- in their puffy sides, I could discern faces fair and sorrowful. They faded before I could view them too clearly, and I looked into the distance to where the music summoned me. It was either a sunset or a sunrise. The sun filled the clouds with magenta and purple, and its orange-gold rays blended with my path to form a band of shimmering metal. I wanted to fade into it, wanted the light of that sun to burn me away, to fill me with such joy that I would become a ray of sunshine myself. This wasn't music to dance to- it was music to worship, music to fill in the gaps of my soul, to bring me to a place where there was no pain. I didn't realise I was weeping until the wet warmth of a tear splashed upon my arm. But even then I clung to the music, gripping it like a ledge that kept me from falling. I hadn't realised how badly I didn't want to tumble into that deep dark- how much I wanted to stay here among the clouds and colour and light. I let the sounds ravage me, let them lay me flat and run over my body with their drums. Up and up, building to a palace in the sky, a hall of alabaster and moonstone, where all that was lovely and kind and fantastic dwelled in peace. I wept- wept to be so close to that palace, wept for the need to be there. Everything I wanted was there- the one I loved was there- The music was Tamlin's fingers strumming my body; it was the gold of his eyes and the twist of his smile. It was that breathy chuckle, and the way he said those three words. It was this I was fighting for, this I had sworn to save. The music rose- louder, grander, faster, from wherever it was played- a wave that peaked, shattering the gloom of my cell. A shuddering sob broke from me at the sound faded into silence. I sat there trembling and weeping, too raw and exposed, left naked by the music and the colour in my mind.”

HealingBeautyMusicSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronWeepingA Court Of Thorns And RosesSoundsImaginging
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Apart from such visits, for the first time in her life Eliza was truly alone. In the beginning, unfamiliar sounds, nocturnal sounds, disturbed her, but as the days passed she came to know them: soft-pawed animals under the eaves, the ticking of the warming range, floorboards shivering in the cooling nights. And their were unexpected benefits to her solitary life: alone in the cottage, Eliza discovered that the characters from her fairy tales became bolder. She found fairies playing in the spiders' webs, insects whispering incantations on the windowsills, fire sprites spitting and hissing in the range. Sometimes in the afternoons, Eliza would sit on the rocking chair listening to them. And late at night, when they were all asleep, she would spin their stories into her own tales.”

AloneFairy TalesSoundsMythical CreaturesEliza Makepeace
Book:The Forgotten Garden
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“I took him to the river and said “let’s watch something drown,” So he took a stone and I took my necklace and we threw it all together, the way I always think I will get better in July. Things will change and sounds won’t ache and I gave my heart to uncertainty so many times, and so I took him to the river, threw the necklace in the river to slowly watch it drown, or burn, or fade away like I’ve done so many times.”

HeartTogetherYoungPoetryYouthSadDepressionRecoveryAloneGet BetterProseAcheJulyRiverFade AwayBurnTimesStoneSoundsDrownNecklace
Book:You're Doing Just Fine
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“To hear never-heard sounds, To see never-seen colors and shapes, To try to understand the imperceptible Power pervading the world; To fly and find pure ethereal substances That are not of matter But of that invisible soul pervading reality. To hear another soul and to whisper to another soul; To be a lantern in the darkness Or an umbrella in a stormy day; To feel much more than know. To be the eyes of an eagle, slope of a mountain; To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon; To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves; To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets Of crazy cities watching, watching, and watching. To be a smile on the face of a woman And shine in her memory As a moment saved without planning.”

WorldSoulMatterFeelingsRealityPoetryUnderstandingCitiesDarknessPowerTreeStreetsShapesMoonMountainSmileMemoryWaveFlyingPlanningInvisibleEyesPoetsDejan StojanovicReadMomentKnowFeelFaceUmbrellaColorsShineFlyEtherealLeavesWatchingSoundsWhisperEagleLanternSubstancesPedestrianStormy DayTask Of A PoetFace Of A WomanImperceptible
Author:Dejan Stojanovic
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“It was all connected, this poetics of listening, word making, and dancing. There was power to transform, to lighten the heaviness of the burden of being human. That's how I came to understand the power of poetry and music. It was a tool, but more than a tool. Words and music evoked a state of mind that lifted us up when racial and historical despair threatened.”

LifePoetryLanguageMusicEnlightenmentTransformationWordsSounds
Book:Catching the Light
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“But, Mr. Harrison, did you never consider a career in music or, perhaps, as a visual artist?" the interviewer persisted. "I have a high school diploma. Guys like me, we don't consider careers. We get a job," Corny said. You're asking him the wrong questions. Ask about the sound of granulated sugar being poured into a stainless-steel bowl, the whirring motor of an electric mixer, or his fist punching down bread dough. A flat, B minor, or C sharp? Or did he prefer music made by others when he worked? If yes, then ask what songs and colors moved this man to make the lightest cakes, the chewiest cookies, breads with tender crusts?”

MusicBakingSoundsSynesthesia
Book:Bitter in the Mouth
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“Which is better? To have heard the sound of children’s laughter? To have listened to the song of birds at morning’s peak? To have beat your fingers in rhythm to the cities traffic? to have giggled at the whispers of your lover’s sweet… nothings? Or never hearing any of those things at all? Therefore never, forever craving those things that was? Which is better? Aw deaf man. Can you even hear me?”

LoveListeningLongingHearingSlow DownDeafRememberingWantingSoundsExperiences And Adventures
Author:N'Zuri Za Austin
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“I was downstairs, reading." " Now?" I strained to see her face. She was smiling, it appeared. "Yes, now," she said. "It's nice, sometimes, to read in the middle of the night. The sky is so dark and soft-looking outside the window, all the stars out. You have just on light on, you know, and it seems to pour onto the page. Makes the book seem better. You are this little island, just up alone with a book. And you heard the night sounds of the house...It's so interesting to me, that sound. Time. The measure of it.”

BookLightNightTimeReadingSolitudeSoundsMeasure
Book:What We Keep
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“When listening to the lightning storms in your area on a standard AM radio, you will hear a sound like bacon frying and this is the electromagnetic energy that the storm is generating. Plants react to this energy and may show vigorous growth during lightning seasons.”

EnergySoundGrowthListeningSeasonsPlantRadioStormReactionsRadiationLightningVigorousListenElectromagneticGrowth QuotesReactingPlantsGenerationStormsEnergy HealingStormySeasonReactionShowFryingGrowth ProcessSoundsReactStandardEnergy Of The UniverseAreaRadiation EffectsBaconListening QuotesPlant LifeEnergy MedicineAmElectromagnetic RadiationElectromagnetismSeasonalRadio WavesElectromagnetic WaveEnergy FieldEnergy ForceRadiationsGenerateLightning StrikeGeneratedLightning BoltStandard ModelFryStormy Day
Book:Electrical Forensics
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“The perpetual movement of the water, rolling from and to unknown destinations, the voices of the sea shield us from the raging furies and shrieking sounds of dystopian surroundings, creating an unwinding veil for stilled happiness, acquainting us with the gentle, cosmic rhythms of an extraneous world. They are a soothing relief and let us listen to the voices of our inner world. ("Voices of the sea" )”

WorldHappinessWaterSeaMovementRhythmReliefCosmicStillnessPerpetualDystopianSurroundingsListenSoothingVoicesSoundsInnerShieldVeilDestinationsRagingShriekFuriesExtraneous
Author:Erik Pevernagie
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“Doğu musikisi âlimleri nağmelerin birbirleriyle olan ilintilerini çıkış noktalarıyla olan ilişkilerine göre belirlerlerdi. Nağmelerin çıkış yerleri insanın gırtlağıdır; fakat musikişinaslar gırtlak nağmelerini notaya alamadıkları için nağme örneklerini olduğu gibi çalgı üzerine aktarmışlardır. Nağmelerin çıkış yerlerini çalgı üzerinde ince hesaplarla zor bir şekilde belirlemişler ve her birini bir harfle göstermişlerdir. Böylece belirlenen seslerin çıkış noktalarını musikinin perdeleri gibi adlandırmışlardır. Musikişinaslarımızın perdeleri belirlemek için sarf ettiği büyük emekleri gören bir kişi doğu musikisinin bilimsel temeli yoktur diyen “ukalalara” karşı kendini gülmekten alıkoyamaz.”

MusicTurkish QuotesClassical MusicMusic QuotesArt MusicSoundsMüzikMusic HistoryMusicologyMüzik TarihiöZbek MüziğiEthnomusicologyPerdeUzbek MusicTurkish MusicTürk MüziğiUzbek Classical MusicöZbek Klasik MüziğiEtnomüzikolojiMusikiMüzikolojiNavoiNevai360 KüyBabür MirzaBahşıBaxshiBesteBestekârDombraDombıraDonburaKobuzKopuzKüyNakışOzanPeşrevTurkish Folk MusicTürk KağanlarıUygurcaçInliler
Book:Özbek Klasik Müziği ve Tarihi
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