Muffled Ears Quotes & Sayings

Hark, how chimes the passing bell! There's no music to a knell; All the other sounds we hear, Flatter, and but cheat our ear. This doth put us still in mind That our flesh must be resigned, And, a general silence made, The world be muffled in a shade. — James Shirley

Charley! Maggie shrieked drunkenly and I watched as my name hit Jake's ears. I noted the way he tensed, my fingers trembling around my beer bottle.
His eyes shot up from his group and tore through the crowd across the room. His chest jerked as his gaze collided with mine and his arm fell away from the girl cuddled into him. His lips parted as shock slackened his handsome features and I watched him mouth my name.
Everyone disappeared around me as we locked eyes for the first time in years. The music dulled to a throb, the conversation to a muffled buzz, and all I could hear was my heartbeat. — Samantha Young

I am on the cusp of change and the curve is shifting fast. — Audre Lorde

Dogs in My Nose
When I woke up that morning, it didn't take me long to realize there were dogs in my nose. I could hear their muffled barks; I could feel their playful vibrations.
It's not dangerous to have dogs in your nose, in fact, it's quite all right to leave them in there for an hour or so. But in this case, because they got in there without permission, I decided to expel them immediately, coaxing them out with a piece of hamburger.
The dogs popped out and landed on the floor. They shook their little floppy ears and bounded off, and I was amused at the prospect of some other weary traveler awakening to find he had dogs in his nose. — Steve Martin

Failure is only practice that prepares you for the real life experiences. — Angela Khristin Brown

Do you make a study of pigs, Monsieur?" she asked, with a muffled note of amusement.
"Of course. I've observed them frequently on my breakfast plate." They had neared the first of the pens, where a stockman was lovingly bathing the ears of an enormously fat spotted sow. Five piglets squealed and gurgled about her panting bulk. "Note the marvelous coil of the tail." He gestured with his cane. "Absolute perfection!"
"And those ears," Callie said, nodding sagely. "She appears to have two!"
"Four legs," Trev added, cataloging all her points.
"Are you certain she has legs?" Callie asked dubiously. "I don't see any."
"They are hidden under her porcine vastness," he informed her. He tilted his head speculatively as they reached the pen. "Unless she has wheels. Perhaps she rolls from place to place? — Laura Kinsale

Just try to let yourself be carried away blindly by your feelings, without reflection, without a primary cause, suppressing consciousness even for a moment; hate or love, anything, just in order not to sit idly by with your arms folded. The day after tomorrow at the very latest, you'll begin to despise yourself for having deceived yourself knowingly. The result: a soap bubble and inertia. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The first mile was always the hardest. By the second, the world grew fuzzy at the edges and only the muffled sound of feet on the trail and the blood pumping in my ears filtered through the haze. — Christina Lauren

Personal growth has its price, and she was paying it without complaint. — Paulo Coelho

Having experimented in both poetry and prose, I can say that the two are such loaded words. But neither are quite as weighted as the word "poet". I think some people can write poetry their whole lives, and never truly BE a "poet". Whereas I see poets in the wanderers I encounter, the baristas who serve me, and the truckers I, so, love to talk to.To be a poet in my humble opinion is to be a muse of the human experience. I love that I love the idea, that anything can be poetry, it can't be defined. It's a feeling, like punk rock. I'm not one for form or structure. I say if your words are visceral and honest, it's poetry. If you see the beauty of the world and humanity, and you preach it, you're a poet. — Mallory Smart

Crying. Milo was crying. It was a soft, muffled sound, but Jason's ears were quite powerful and the house was otherwise quiet. It sounded something like sobs and something like a dog's throat-whine. Aw. Hell. — Eli Easton

Once their breathing calmed and the ringing in Zane's ears faded,he heard the muffled sound of Nick and Kelly in their bedroom,catcalling and applauding.Ty must have heard it as well,because they both began to laugh at the same time.
-Is wrong that I'm turned on by the idea of forcing your friends to listen to us having sex?-Zane asked with a frown.
Ty laughed harder.-Just don't tell Nick that.He'll offer to critique your performance.Or worse,join us- — Abigail Roux

He had been living in a down-town Y.M.C.A., but when he quit the task of making sow-ear purses out of sows' ears, he moved up-town and went to work immediately as a reporter for The Sun. He kept at this for a year, doing desultory writing on the side, with little success, and then one day an infelicitous incident peremptorily closed his newspaper career. On a February afternoon he was assigned to report a parade of Squadron A. Snow threatening, he went to sleep instead before a hot fire, and when he woke up did a smooth column about the muffled beats of the horses' hoofs in the snow ... This he handed in. Next morning a marked copy of the paper was sent down to the City Editor with a scrawled note: "Fire the man who wrote this." It seemed that Squadron A had also seen the snow threatening - had postponed the parade until another day. A week later he had begun "The Demon Lover." ... In — F Scott Fitzgerald

He felt something move in his chest, as though an organ had been removed and something unfamiliar left in its place. A sentiment he had never suspected the existence of bloomed in him. It traveled from his chest along his veins to every limb. It swelled in his head, muffled his ears, stilled his voice, and collected in his feet and fingers. Having no language for it, he remained silent, but felt it root, become permanent. — Diane Setterfield

When I was 20 I was immensely proud of the rows of grey-spined Penguin Modern Classics in my bookcase. — Linda Grant

When they're good, I like working with new actors. — John C. Reilly

Here's what I say;
Someone has to be a rock star; it might as well be you;
Someone has to write books; it might as well be you;
And someone has to sleep with artists, and it might as well be you. So practice that instrument, write those words, put on those heels, and go find something, or someone, to love. — Jamie Freveletti

I love music. I'd love to go on Broadway and do a musical there. I just like to kind of go with whatever's inspiring at the moment, and kind of follow that as far as I can. — Emmy Rossum

Religion has a way of making people into idiots is what my father says. — Victor Lodato

I hear a muffled sniffling noise and glancing at Claire I am astonished to see that tears are streaming across her face toward her ears. I sit up and lean over her. — Audrey Niffenegger

A business leader has to keep their organization focused on the mission. That sounds easy, but it can be tremendously challenging in today's competitive and ever-changing business environment. A leader also has to motivate potential partners to join. — Meg Whitman