A large American automobile came crawling close to us, and we could hear from behind its thick windows the deep bass of the radio, and the nasty words of a hateful song.It seemed like so much of modern music, a din to drive human beings mad.
He remembered a conversation he'd once had with a Chief Constable some years back, when he asked the Chief if in his experience he believed there was such a thing as the 'perfect murder'. The Chief had replied that there was. 'It's the one we never h...
I roamed alone; O, barren dreams. My echoed voice, what lonely comfort. Here is my salvation: I hear the triumph drum; the rhythm of the rising, the long-awaited sun.
Your unborn children cry in your testicles. I can hear them when you masturbate. Your mother loves me more than she loves you.
She'd obviously read the book many times before, and so she read flawlessly and confidently, and I could hear her smile in the reading of it, and the sound of that smile made me think that maybe I would like novels better if Alaska Young read them to...
I write music—for whales. You can’t hear it, but rest assured, it’s excellent. Mostly they’re love songs. Listen with your heart—but be careful, because my songs have an irregular beat.
An eerie silence has descended over the house. Every few minutes, I hear a grunt and the scraping sound of a box dragging along the floor. Other than that, there’s nothing. It’s like the silence is the actual articulation of the emptiness we all ...
I met your father last week. Are you still interested in hearing how he is doing? No. It is very probable that you will be responsible for his death. It is virtually certain that he is responsible for my life. We are even.
The nature of immortality is a mystery,' he says, speaking so softly that we have to lean closer to hear.' But everything I know of writing and reading tells me that this is true. I have felt it in these shelves and in others.
Oliver has stated many times his dislike of hearing advice from his younger sister, so it is his own fault if he has not got sense enough to see which way the wind is blowing.
There is something about wills which brings out the worst side of human nature. People who under ordinary circumstances are perfectly upright and amiable, go as curly as corkscrews and foam at the mouth, whenever they hear the words 'I devise and beq...
When you can quiet the fluctuations of your mind and drift into stillness & silence, you can finally hear the whispers of your heart… the whispers of god.
Those intellectuals are our natural enemies; the only kind who are worth anything are the musicians and the dancers: they don’t insult anybody with their performances, and they neither sing nor dance politics. So I like them; but don’t let me hea...
... she had uttered these words simply in order to provoke a reply in certain other words, which she seemed, indeed, to wish to hear spoken, but, from prudence, would let her friend be the first to speak.
A beam from the everlasting sun of God. Rude and unresponsive are the stones; Yet in them divine things lie concealed; I hear their imprisoned chant:– “We are fragments of the universe, Chips of the rock whereon God laid the foundation of the wor...
The drive was strangely calm. Deathly calm. Dark, light …. dark, light …. dark again as we glided under repeat street lighting. Four men sitting silently in four leather seats. Could hear the creaks. The smallest sounds are the most terrifying.
Which is more musical, a truck passing by a factory or a truck passing by a music school? Are the people inside the school musical and the ones outside unmusical? What if the ones inside can't hear very well, would that change my question?
Don't you think it's a small mystery that birds can twitter so loudly that they can hear each other's song from several miles away? Those tiny bundles are like living flutes, playing non-stop on themselves.
Somewhere a bird sang, its chant hanging plaintive and melancholy in the still air...I think it's a sort of lark or something. Our tradition has it that they sing with the voices of lost lovers. If the stars are smiling on them, you will hear its mat...
You look incredible, Kavanagh,” Quinn whispered close to my ear. “Are you trying to kill me?” “Ssshhh,” I hissed. “They’re going to hear you.” “I can’t tell my date she’s beautiful?” I turned my head. “No. No, you can’t.
Let's take the figure of the feminist killjoy seriously. One feminist project could be to give the killjoy back her voice. Whilst hearing feminists as killjoys might be a form of dismissal, there is an agency that this dismissal rather ironically rev...
