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Trumpets Quotes

Browse 284 quotes about Trumpets.

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Trumpets Quotes

“With that, the poignant charm vanished. Inside the fifth machine, all was rampant malignity. Deformed flowers thrust monstrous horned tusks and trumpets ending in blaring teeth through the crimson walls, rending them; the ravenous garden slavered over its prey and every brick was shown in the act of falling. Amid the violence of this transformation, the oblivion of the embrace went on. The awakened girl, in all her youthful loveliness, still clasped in the arms of a lover from whom all the flesh had fallen. He was a grinning skeleton.”

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Author:Angela Carter
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“There was a discordant hum of human voices! There was a loud blast as of many trumpets! There was a harsh grating as of a thousand thunders! The fiery walls rushed back! An outstretched arm caught my own as I fell, fainting, into the abyss. It was that of General Lasalle. The French army had entered Toledo. The Inquisition was in the hands of its enemies.”

HumansHandsVoiceMy OwnEnemyWallArmsThousandArmyCaughtLoudHarshAbyssThunderBlastTrumpetsFieryInquisitionHuman VoiceFaintingFrench ArmyToledo
Book:Edgar Allan Poe: Selected Poetry and Tales
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“Patriotism is proud of a country's virtues and eager to correct its deficiencies; it also acknowledges the legitimate patriotism of other countries, with their own specific virtues. The pride of nationalism, however, trumpets its country's virtues and denies its deficiencies, while it is contemptuous toward the virtues of other countries. It wants to be, and proclaims itself to be, "the greatest," but greatness is not required of a country; only goodness is.”

WantCountryVirtueGreatnessHumilityPrideProudGoodnessDenyAcknowledgePatriotismNationalismOther CountriesTrumpetsDeficiencyPatriotism And NationalismContemptuousPatriotism And War
Author:Sydney J. Harris
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“Shadowfax tossed his head and cried aloud, as if a trumpet had summoned him to battle. Then he sprang forward. Fire flew from his feet; night rushed over him. As he fell slowly into sleep, Pippin had a strange feeling: he and Gandalf were still as stone, seated upon the statue of a running horse, while the world rolled away beneath his feet with a great noise of wind.”

IfsWorldStillsFeelingsRunningNightSleepFireFeetStrangeWindBattleStonesHorseNoiseCriedStatuesFlewTrumpetsPippin
Book:The Lord of the Rings: One Volume
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“...I is another. If the brass wakes the trumpet, it’s not its fault. That’s obvious to me: I witness the unfolding of my own thought: I watch it, I hear it: I make a stroke with the bow: the symphony begins in the depths, or springs with a bound onto the stage. If the old imbeciles hadn’t discovered only the false significance of Self, we wouldn’t have to now sweep away those millions of skeletons which have been piling up the products of their one-eyed intellect since time immemorial, and claiming themselves to be their authors!”

IfsHas BeensSelfMy OwnWatchesMillionsStageProductsSpringFaultsDepthBoundsObviousIntellectWitnessSignificanceBowsStrokesSymphonyUnfoldingTrumpetsSkeletonsBrassImbeciles
Author:Arthur Rimbaud
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“The Violins waltzed. The Cellos and Basses provided accompaniment. The Violas mourned their fate, while the Concertmaster showed off. The Flutes did bird imitations…repeatedly, and the reed instruments had the good taste to admire my jacket. The Trumpets held a parade in honor of our great nation, while the French Horns waxed nostalgic about something or other. The Trombones had too much to drink. The Percussion beat the band, and the Tuba stayed home playing cards with his landlady, the Harp, taking sips of warm milk a blue little cup. “But the Composer is still dead.”

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Author:Daniel Handler
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“Love isn't a burst o' trumpets and a flock o' doves descendin' out o' the heavens to roost on yer heads. Tis sharin' a cup o' tea by the hearth on a cold winter's night. 'Tis the look in yer husband's eyes when ye lay yer first child in his arms. Tis the ache in yer heart when ye watch the light in his eyes dim fer the last time, and know a part o' ye has gone out o' this world with him.”

KnowsWorldFirstsLooksHeartChildrenLightEyeLastsNightHeavenWatchesGoneThis WorldArmsColdHusbandLaysWinterCupsTeaHis EyesLast TimeAcheFlocksTrumpetsDoveWinter ColdRoost
Book:Charming the Prince
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“It was a grey day, that least fleshly of all weathers; a day of dreams and far hopes and clear visions. It was a day easily associated with those abstract truths and purities that dissolve in the sunshine or fade out in mocking laughter by the light of the moon. The trees and clouds were carved in classical severity; the sounds of the countryside had harmonized to a monotone, metallic as a trumpet, breathless as the Grecian urn.”

DreamLightSoundVisionClearTreeMoonLaughterCloudsWeatherAbstractPuritySunshineFadesGreyTrumpetsCountrysideSeverityBreathlessClear VisionMetallic
Book:This Side of Paradise
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“Rome was mud and smoky skies; the rank smell of the Tiber and the exotically spiced cooking fires of a hundred different nationalities. Rome was white marble and gilding and heady perfumes; the blare of trumpets and the shrieking of market-women and the eternal, sub-aural hum of more people, speaking more languages than Gaius had ever imagined existed, crammed together on seven hills whose contours had long ago disappeared beneath this encrustation if humanity. Rome was the pulsing heart of the world.”

PeopleIfsWorldHeartLongDifferentTogetherHumanityLanguageWhiteFireSkyEternalHundredCookingSevenSmellHillsRomeLong AgoMudPerfumeNationalityMarbleTrumpetsDifferent Nationalities
Book:The Forest House
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“Think you a little din can daunt mine ears? Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Have I not heard the sea, puffed up with winds, Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat? Have I not heard great ordinance in the field, And Heaven's artillery thunder in the skies? Have I not in a pitched battle heard Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang? And do you tell me of a woman's tongue, That gives not half so great a blow to hear As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire? Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. Grumio: For he fears none.”

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Book:The Taming of the Shrew
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“Then the voices of the Ainur, like unto harps and lutes, and pipes and trumpets, and viols and organs, and like unto countless choirs singing with words, began to fashipn the theme of Iluvatar to a great music; and a sound arose of endless interchanging melodies woven in harmony that passed beyond hearing into the depths and into the heights, and the places of the dwelling of Iluvatar were filled to overflowing, and the music and the echo of the music went out into the Void, and it was not void.”

SoundVoiceSingingHarmonyFilledDepthHearingEndlessHeightThemeMelodyVoidOrgansEchoesDwellingPipeWovenTrumpetsGreat MusicChoirHarpsSilmarillionChoir Singing
Author:J. R. R. Tolkien
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“Then said he, ’I am going to my Father’s; and though with great difficulty I am got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have fought His battles who now will be my rewarder.’.... So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.”

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Author:John Bunyan
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“I'll never be a poet,' said Amory as he finished. 'I'm not enough of a sensualist really; there are only a few obvious things that I notice as primarily beautiful: women, spring evenings, music at night, the sea; I don't catch the subtle things like 'silver-snarling trumpets.' I may turn out an intellectual, but I'll never right anything but mediocre poetry.”

MaySaidEnoughBeautifulNightTurnsSeaPoetIntellectualSpringObviousFinishedEveningSubtleSilverMediocreBeautiful WomenTrumpetsObvious ThingsSnarling
Book:This Side of Paradise
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“If you like to make things out of wood, or sew, or dance, or style people's hair, or dream up stories and act them out, or play the trumpet, or jump rope, or whatever you really love to do, and you love that in front of your children, that's going to be a far more important gift than anything you could ever give them wrapped up in a box with ribbons.”

PeopleIfsGivingChildrenImportantPlayStoriesDreamFunLearningStyleFrontsHairOur ChildrenBoxesWoodsYour ChildrenRopeTrumpetsRibbonsJump Rope
Book:Many Ways to Say I Love You: Wisdom for Parents and Children from Mister Rogers
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“High horns, low horns, silence, and finally a pandemonium of trumpets, rattles, croaks, and cries that almost shakes the bog with its nearness ... A new day has begun on the crane marsh. A sense of time lies thick and heavy on such a place ... Our ability to perceive quality in nature begins, as in art, with the pretty. It expands through successive stages of the beautiful to values as yet uncaptured by language.”

ArtBeautifulLyingValuesLanguageNatureAbilitySilenceQualityStageCryLowsHeavyPerceiveShakesThickHornsNew DayTrumpetsMarshesCranesBogsPandemonium
Author:Aldo Leopold
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“This might explain why Obama gave billions to Wall Street crooks, and dragged the Iraq and Afghan wars on and on. Happily for the busy lunatics who rule over us, we are permanently the United States of Amnesia. We learn nothing because we remember nothing... We have ceased to be a nation under law but instead a homeland where the withered Bill of Rights, like a dead trumpet vine, clings to our pseudo-Roman columns.”

WarStatesMightRememberLawPoliticsNationsUnitedUnited StatesRightsStreetsWallBillsBusyIraqBillionsColumnsHomelandTrumpetsVinesAmnesiaBill Of RightsPseudoCrooksWitheredAfghan
Author:Gore Vidal
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“There is no need to sally forth, for it remains true that those things which make us human are, curiously enough, always close at hand. Resolve, then, that on this very ground, with small flags waving and tiny blasts on tiny trumpets, we shall meet the enemy, and not only may he be ours, he may be us.”

NeedsHumansMayEnoughHandsEnemyHuman NatureRemainsTinyResolveFlagsBlastTrumpetsFlag Waving
Book:Pogo revisited: containing the complete volumes of The Pogo poop book, Instant Pogo [and] The Jack Acid Society black book
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“From the explanatory notes that Willson wrote to accompany his symphony, A Symphony of San Francisco,: "Generally speaking, the first movement is intended to convey pioneer courage, loyalty, strength of purpose and freedom." The trumpet motive in the closing Allegro "is a call of defiance to the very elements themselves that had the temerity to dispute the spiritual strength and courage of the golden city of the West."”

FirstsSpiritualPurposeFreedomCitiesMovementElementsNotesWestLoyaltyGoldenMotiveDisputesSan FranciscoClosingSymphonyPioneersDefianceTrumpetsAccompanySpiritual Strength
Author:Meredith Willson
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