A vacant mind is open to all suggestions, as a hollow mountain returns all sounds.
I love the smell of the ice... And the cold. The sound the puck makes when it's sliding across the ice or when hits the net for a goal... as long as it's our goal. I love the sound of sticks crashing against one another. The sound my skates make when...
Like how stars might sound. Or moons But not mountains. Too floaty for mountains. It's a sound like one planet singing to another, high stretched and full of different voices starting at different notes and sloping down to other different notes but a...
Becky --" he begins, and there's a tiny intake of breath around the churchyard. "Will you--" "Yes! Yeee-esssss!" I hear the joyful sound ripping through the churchyard before I even realize I've opened my mouth. I'm so charged up with emotion, my voi...
If I could record them and transmit them to the present age, they would constitute nothing more, nowadays, than dead sounds. They would be, in a word, sounds other than what they actually were, and from what their phonographic labels pretended they w...
The beauty of the flute was in its simplicity, in its resemblance to the human voice. It always sounded clear. It sounded alone. The piano, on the other hand, was a network of parts—a ship, with its strings like rigging, its case a hull, its lifted...
[first lines] Bagheera: Many strange legends are told of these jungles of India, but none so strange as the story of a small boy named Mowgli. It all began when the silence of the jungle was broken by an unfamiliar sound. [Sound of baby crying] Baghe...
Stewart: What would you think if someone played a kitchen table like it were a piano? Aunt Morag: Like it were a piano? Stewart: It's strange isn't it? I mean it's not a piano, it doesn't make any sound. Aunt Morag: No, no sound. Stewart: I knew she ...
There is no woman who sleeps so deeply that the sound of a guitar won't bring her to the window.
I run my hands through his hair, finally, finally, finally, then bring his head to mine and kiss him so hard our teeth collide, planets collide, kissing him now for each and every time we didn't all summer long. I know absolutely how to kiss him too,...
...I have this one nasty habit. Makes me hard to live with. I write... ...writing is antisocial. It's as solitary as masturbation. Disturb a writer when he is in the throes of creation and he is likely to turn and bite right to the bone... and not ev...
Sound as medium has an incredible elasticity. So, of course, it is tempting for artists of other fields to try something with sounds. Why not? We are living in the age when there is no limit in gathering all forms of art and music to mix it together ...
Some things can be perfectly expressed by sound alone and images would only be disturbing. Other times, sound would be possible, but visuals are much stronger and closer to what I want to express and then again, they sometimes overlap perfectly.
Silence was not the absence of sound but was itself a sound that could be loud or soft, soothing or disturbing, complex or simple.
Women do have an affinity for evil, for believing that no woman is to be trusted, but that some men are too innocent to protect themselves.
Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar...
A man is the sum of his misfortunes. One day you'd think misfortune would get tired but then time is your misfortune
The dusty library air is electric with secrets/ almost palpable in the thick quiet that bounces between/ Cal and those books and me
His voice sounded like molten metal. As if he had something thick at the back of his throat and it was making him sound deeper and richer than he actually was.
Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it: without the alternation of sound and silence there would be no rhythm.
That sounds weird: "kill yourself." It makes it sound like you tried to murder someone, only that someone is you.
