Beautiful Noise Quotes & Sayings

My ears interpreted a mix of nearby voices as calm, friendly, ordinary chatter. With that as background noise, I enjoyed the silent attention of my mate. The way his hand brushed softly over every inch of my bare skin tempted my eyelids to close and my mind to wander, but I kept focused, not wanting to miss a moment of admiring this beautiful man and his seductive, wild look. I felt a flood of emotion set in, born from absolute, interminable love for him. I wished for the voices to cease, for time to halt, for the moment we were living to replay over and over and over again perpetually. The world could have its gain and glory, its vengeance and victories - all I wanted was the enduring love and attention of this man who most assuredly was my soulmate. — Richelle E. Goodrich

We live in a kind of dark age, craftily lit with synthetic light, so that no one can tell how dark it has really gotten. But our exiled spirits can tell. Deep in our bones resides an ancient singing couple who just won't give up making their beautiful, wild noise. The world won't end if we can find them. — Martin Prechtel

Quietness is the beginning of virtue. To be silent is to be beautiful. Stars do not make a noise. — James Stephens

What would you do if you were President, and, on the first day of May, the Russian Ambassador presented you with a beautiful cake which emitted a curious ticking noise? Would you plunge it into a pail of water - thus insulting Soviet cuisine in general? — W.C. Fields

He looked up. His mouth stayed where it was and noise quit coming out of it. Yes, Asil thought, the other's awe soothing the feathers that had been ruffled by the wait, I am beautiful. — Kevin J. Anderson

It is the plight of man. And while the blame lies partly on the river " Lotus gestures towards the dark waters before us "most of the blame lies on man's inclination to tune into the noise that blares all around him instead of the beautiful silence that lies deep within. — Alyson Noel

He growled. The noise echoed through the area. Birds flew from the trees. They appeared like dark dots in the starry sky. — Kenya Wright

The sounds of a man crying is a piteous noise, almost worse than an infant's cry. Babies are either hungry, sick or bored, or need changing. This man was none of those things. He was wrapped in grief as deep as the ocean, and no one could do anything to help him. — Samantha Hayes

Your darkness is a symphony

Played in explosions of silence to a crowd that has fallen in love with noise

If they refuse to applaud you
It isn't because your music isn't beautiful
It is because they have no idea how to love what they don't understand
And that, my darling, is the most horrific flaw in this mixed up world — Christopher Poindexter

They were no words. There was hardly even a tune. But it was, beyond comparison, the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. It was so beautiful he could hardly bear it. — C.S. Lewis

Legion hissed like a startled cat, the noise scraping at Reyes's skin. "Me no boy. You think me a boy?"
Everyone stopped, stared. Even Aeron.
Reyes was the first to find his voice. "You're a ... girl?"
A nod. "Me pretty."
"Yes, you are." Reyes exchanged a glance with Lucien. "Beautiful. — Gena Showalter

The world is a glorious bounty. There is more food than can be eaten if we would limit our numbers to those who can be cherished, there are more beautiful girls than can be dreamed of, more children than we can love, more laughter than can be endured, more wisdom than can be absorbed. Canvas and pigments lie in wait, stone, wood, and metal are ready for sculpture, random noise is latent for symphonies, sites are gravid for cities, institutions lie in the wings ready to solve our most intractable problems, parables of moving power remain unformulated and yet, the world is finally unknowable. — Ian L. McHarg

Every morning he comes to the top of the stairs and looks down over the club and he stands there, so big and powerful and beautiful and ... " She swallows hard like her mouth just went totally dry. "Sexy. God, so unbelievably sexy." Her eyes get a weird, intense look like she's remembering something, then she makes a soft noise and doesn't say anything for a second. — Karen Marie Moning

fall in love with
expressing yourself.
it does not matter how you
do it.
you understand, creature?
dance until
your feet erode into
the earth,
sing until
your lungs cave
in,
be silent
until the world
understands
the absence
of noise
is beautiful.

express whoever
you are
because
what you are
is essential. — Christopher Poindexter

Nothing is as nice as plugging in your guitar and turning up the volume really loud, just seeing what kind of beautiful noise you can make with it. — Carrie Brownstein

Your half empty..

A broken glass,

I love you can sound so beautiful

Until you stop to listen

That terrible background noise,

you have no idea how bad I want to hold you

But I'm afraid I'll cut my hand. — Brittany Williams

Every day I strive to get to a place where I'm not effected by the external world, and I don't use the external world to define or tell me who I am. I strive for a state of equanimity and calm and a state of grace, so I can be free of definitions. If you are free, then you can create beautiful things. It's really just shutting out the noise. — Laurel Holloman

Above me, wind does its best
to blow leaves off
the aspen tree a month too soon.
No use wind. All you succeed
in doing is making music, the noise
of failure growing beautiful. — Bill Holm

It could be so beautiful here if the Americans themselves had not made it so ugly with their big buildings, their millions of cars, and noise ... — Greta Garbo

I shake my head subtly and respond to Bailey, who's looking at me expectantly. "I'm not going out."
She laughs; it's the most beautiful noise I've ever heard. I don't think I've ever heard her laugh properly like that. My mouth drops open slightly before I pull myself back together. She pretends to wipe her eyes and grabs hold of my hand again, pulling me through the open door. "It's adorable you think you have a choice. — Dannielle Wicks

It's a template record for the intersection between pop and noise, starting out with 'Sunday Morning' - a real beautiful, almost innocent sunny day song. You have a lot of different types of things on one record. It can be really pretty, or it can be really awful inside, depending on where your head's at at the moment. I got it in ninth grade and I think I've listened to it every month since then. — Craig Finn

I did not run to him, but I did wrap my arms around him, press my ear to his chest, hold on to him as if he were the last solid thing in the world. He stroked my hair and murmured to me in French. I understood enough to know he was glad to see me and that he thought I looked beautiful. But beyond that it was just pretty noise.
It wasn't until I felt Zerbrowski behind me that I pulled away, but when Jean-Claude's hand found mine, I welcomed it.
Zerbrowski was looking at me as if he'd never seen me before. "What?" It came out hostile.
"I've never seen you be that ... soft with anyone before."
It startled me. "You've seen me kiss Richard before."
He nodded. "That was lust. This is ... " He shook his head, glancing up at Jean-Claude, then back to me. "He makes you feel safe. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Daily Alice awoke, as she always did, when the sun broke in at her eastward windows with a noise like music. She kicked off the figured coverlet and lay naked in the long bars of sun for a time, touching herself awake, finding eyes, knees, breasts, red-gold hair all in place and where she had left them. Then she stood, stretched, brushed the last of sleep from her face, and knelt by the bed amid the squares of sun and said, as she had every morning since she could speak, her prayers:
O great wide beautiful wonderful World
With the wonderful waters around you curled
And the beautiful grass upon your breast
O World you are beautifully dressed. — John Crowley

That's always been in my mind my metaphor for a team working really hard on something they're passionate about. It's that through the team, through that group of incredibly talented people bumping up against each other, having arguments, having fights sometimes, making some noise, and working together they polish each other and they polish the ideas, and what comes out are these really beautiful stones. — Steve Jobs

I erupt from the dark, crushing tunnel into a flash of light and noise. A new kind of air surrounds me, dry and cold, as they wipe the last smears of home off my skin. I feel a sharp pain as they snip something, and suddenly I am less. I am no one but myself, tiny and feeble and utterly alone. I am lifted and swungthrough great heights across yawning distances, and given to Her. She wraps around me, so much bigger and softer than I ever imagined from inside,and I strain my eyes open. I see Her. She is immense, cosmic. She is the world. The world smiles down on me, and when She speaks it's the voice of God, vast and resonant with meaning, but words unknowable, ringing gibberish in my blank white mind. — Isaac Marion

It amazed me how some people could touch an instrument and create something so beautiful, and when others tried, like me, it just sounded like mangled noise. — Ruta Sepetys

She left for the Mercury, but I stayed on the roof for a while. I breathed in the city: its warming wind, its noise. And I was one young man on a roof who had just spent the night with a beautiful woman...and the sunlight suggested winter and hard days to come, but we would all survive somehow, and the seasons were bigger than any of us anyway--and we were all tumbling along on the breeze of something enormous and eternal and gloriously busy. — Robert Kaplow

Mr. Clark," she repeated, looking up at him. "You are very tall."
"And you," he said in a low voice, "you, my most maddeningly beautiful, brilliant, Free. You are perfectly sized. If you Mr. Clark me once more, I shall be forced to do something dreadful, something like kiss you in public."
Even her wildest fantasies had not had him saying something like that on arrival. She squeezed his hands and then looked up into his dark eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Clark," she said. "What did you say, Mr. Clark? Mr. Clark, I fear that I have become rather hard of hearing. The noise of the press is terribly distracting. What was that you said you'd do if I called you Mr. Clark? — Courtney Milan

Wishing you happiness always! Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons ... Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. — Max Ehrmann

Cheap heroism is always easy, and even to sacrifice life is easy too; because it is only a case of hot blood and an overflow of energy, and there is such a longing for what is beautiful! No, take the deed of heroism that is labourious, obscure, without noise or flourish, slandered, in which there is a great deal of sacrifice and not one grain of glory - in which you, a splendid man, are made to look like a scoundrel before every one, though you might be the most honest man in the world - you try that sort of heroism and you'll soon give it up! While I - have been bearing the burden of that all my life. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

His noise is getting quieter, but I can still see it there still-
See how he feels the skin of my hand against his, see how he wants to take it and press it against his mouth, how he wants to breathe in the smell of me and how beautiful I look to him, how strong after all that illness, and how he wants to just lightly touch my neck, just there, and how he wants to take me in his arms and-
"Oh, God," he says, looking away suddenly. "Viola, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
But I just put my hand to the back of his neck-
And he says, "Viola-?"
And I pull myself towards him-
And I kiss him.
And it feels like, finally. — Patrick Ness

Virtue is a beautiful thing in woman when they don't go about with it like a child with a drum making all sorts of noise with it. — Douglas William Jerrold

We are beautiful, strange creatures of heat and noise, of sudden, inscrutable impulses, of savage passions. — Robert Jackson Bennett

She didn't say a work, and I gave up trying, because you couldn't hear either one of us over the shattering noise of hearts breaking and the looming shadow of the last word, the one we refused to say. — Kami Garcia

For me, noise is not something I use to shock, or because it's funny, or weird, or whatever. I use it because I find it beautiful. — Christian Fennesz

I walked slowly, my eyes focused on the gravel beneath me. I didn't know where I was going, not that I cared. I just needed to get away. Soon enough, I'd find my way home. I had to believe that.
There was a loud crackling noise in the sky as the thunder rolled through the clouds. I threw my head back, admiring the storm above. The sky was dark with flashes of white sparking throughout with each bolt of lightening following behind the thunder. It was beautiful. "After the storm, you will find peace." I smiled as the sound boomed through the quiet neighborhood. And in that moment I felt at one with the storm as the pain inside of me slowly began to seep out. — Nicole Sobon

Traditional angling is to escape the noise and one-upmanship of modern angling in favour of something simple and beautiful. — Fennel Hudson

I wouldn't live in a colony like that, myself, for a thousand dollars an hour. I wouldn't want it next door. I'm not too happy it's within ten miles. Why? Because their soft-headedness irritates me. Because their beautiful thinking ignores both history and human nature. Because they'd spoil my thing with their thing. Because I don't think any of them is wise enough to play God and create a human society. Look. I like privacy, I don't like crowds, I don't like noise, I don't like anarchy, I don't even like discussion all that much. I prefer study, which is very different from meditation-not better, different. I don't like children who are part of the wild life. So are polecats and rats and other sorts of hostile and untrained vermin. I want to make a distinction between civilization and the wild life. I want a society that will protect the wild life without confusing itself with it. — Wallace Stegner

When I see you, the World stops. It stops and all that exists for me is you and my eyes staring at you. There's nothing else. No noise, no other people, no thoughts or worries, no yesterday, no tomorrow. The World just stops, and it is a beautiful place, and there is only you. — James Frey

You are so beautiful," he whispered. He stepped closer, but before she could touch him he took her hand and brought it to his lips.
"When I saw you tonight I think my heart stopped beating."
"And is it now?" she whispered.
He took her hand and laid it over his heart. She could feel it pounding beneath his skin, almost hear it reverberating through her own body. He was so strong, and so solid, and so wonderfully male.
"Do you know what I wanted to do?" he murmured.
She shook her head, too entranced by the low heat of his voice to make a noise of her own.
"I wanted to turn you around and push you right back through the door before anyone else saw you. I didn't want to share you." He traced her lips with his finger. "I still don't. — Julia Quinn

Modern science agrees that the universe consists of vibrations, but sound is more than vibration. Distinct from white noise, sound is vibrations in harmonic proportions, and from the billions of vibrations that are possible, the universe shows a startling, overwhelming preference for the few thousand that make harmonic sense.This is because the One, from which all things issue, is beautiful. — Huston Smith

There are beautiful sounds in rock. Very lazy, dreamlike noises. You can forget about the lyrics in most songs. Just dig the noise, and you've got your sound ... We're musical primitives. — Andy Warhol

He hears everything as music,' said his father, Moses Whitaker. 'The fax machine sounds like an A. The copy machine is a B flat. The jackhammers are making the drum beats that he likes.' When the subway rumbles, Matthew taps his cane on the ground to re-create the noise. He hums along with the city - the fast cars and fast talkers. When asked to describe New York, he stands and pivots a full 360 degrees, pointing his fingers in front of him. 'New York is a circle of sounds,' he says. 'There is music everywhere. Everybody has a smile on their face. It's musical, it's dark and so beautiful. — David Byrne

I started to play noise on my cello because I felt a deep personal connection to it. I mean, I still love all the beautiful sounds of the cello as much as anybody but it's only when I play certain sounds I know that the cello really presents who I am; not my emotions but who I am as a person. — Okkyung Lee

The thing about fires most people don't realise is the noise. It's deafening so even if you shout, you can't be heard three feet away. You can never quite get used to the fury of it, it's like a mighty roar of anger that just keeps going. I suppose flame is beautiful, the way it leaps into the air like it's free to do what it wants. Other elements are also free and I guess the sea can be pretty awesome, wind too, and lightning, but fire has a mind and a determination. You don't see it as a blind raging thing, which I suppose it is, but something that attacks and thinks and changes tactics. It has a malevolence that uses surprise, dirty tricks, cunning. You get to think of it as someone, not something, and it's someone you have to beat, but right from the start you don't like your chances because it's so big and unpredictable and can do so much harm. — Bryce Courtenay

There's pathos in this familiar routine, in the sounds of homely objects touching surfaces. And in the little sigh she makes when she turns or slightly bends our unwieldy form. It's already clear to me how much of life is forgotten even as it happens. Most of it. The unregarded present spooling away from us, the soft tumble of unremarkable thoughts, the long-neglected miracle of existence. When she's no longer twenty-eight and pregnant and beautiful, or even free, she won't remember the way she set down the spoon and the sound it made on slate, the frock she wore today, the touch of her sandal's thong between her toes, the summer's warmth, the white noise of the city beyond the house walls, a short burst of birdsong by a closed window. All gone, already. — Ian McEwan

As a very small child I found recorded noise and the solitary singer beneath the spotlight so dramatic and so brave ... walking the plank ... willingly ... It was sink or swim. The very notion of standing there, alone, I found beautiful. — Morrissey

Then an odd thing happened. Britney put her finger on the ridge of the painted glass and rubbed it. It made a perfect noise. The kind of noise that goes on and on as a beautiful noise does once it has wrung the ear. It was the chord of the wild sea. — David Paul Kirkpatrick