I paid the taxi driver, got out with my suitcase, surveyed my surroundings, and just as I was turning to ask the driver something or get back into the taxi and return forthwith to Chillán and then to Santiago, it sped off without warning, as if the somewhat ominous solitude of the place had unleashed atavistic fears in the driver's mind. For a moment I too was afraid. I must have been a sorry sight standing there helplessly with my suitcase from the seminary, holding a copy of Farewell's Anthology in one hand. Some birds flew out from behind a clump of trees. They seemed to be screaming the name of that forsaken village, Querquén, but they also seemed to be enquiring who: quién, quién, quién. I said a hasty prayer and headed for a wooden bench, there to recover a composure more in keeping with what I was, or what at the time I considered myself to be. Our Lady, do not abandon your servant, I murmured, while the black birds, about twenty-five centimetres in length, cried quién, quién, quién. Our Lady of Lourdes, do not abandon your poor priest, I murmured, while other birds, about ten centimetres long, brown in colour, or brownish, rather, with white breasts, called out, but not as loudly, quién, quién, quién, Our Lady of Suffering, Our Lady of Insight, Our Lady of Poetry, do not leave your devoted subject at the mercy of the elements, I murmured, while several tiny birds, magenta, black, fuchsia, yellow and blue in colour, wailed quién, quién, quién, at which point a cold wind sprang up suddenly, chilling me to the bone.
Roberto BolañoMots clés words poetry alone prayer prose imagery birds haunting sound creepy eerie
Does sound have rhythm? Does it rise and fall like the ocean? Does sound come and go like wind?
Myron UhlbergMots clés noise sound rhythm deafness
Have you ever heard a blindfolded octopus unwrap a cellophane-covered bathtub?
Norton JusterMots clés fantasy fiction absurd kids nonsense sound hearing bathtub silly octopus
We found, before the hands of the dial had taught us the lapse of a week, that this would be something not to be endured. The sun sank lower every day behind the crags and silvery horns; the heavens grew to wear a hue of violet, almost black, and yet unbearably dazzling; as the notes of our voices fell upon the atmosphere they assumed a metallic tone, as if the air itself had become frozen from the beginning of the world and they tinkled against it; our sufferings had mounted in their intensity till they were too great to be resisted.
Harriet Prescott SpoffordMots clés exploration cold sound north-pole polar
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What chance combination of shadow and sound and his own thoughts had created it?
Patricia HighsmithMots clés mind chance creation strangers shadow thoughts trickster sound train patricia-highsmith strangers-on-a-train nightp
sound is of no use to human evolution. in fact, it gets in the way.
Haruki MurakamiMots clés sound
Sound has a profound effect on the senses. It can be both herd and felt. It can even be seen with the mind’s eye. It can almost be tasted and smelled. Sound can evoke responses of the five senses. Sound can paint a picture, produce a mood, trigger the senses to remember another time and place. From infancy we hear sound with our entire bodies. When I hear my own name, I have as much a sense of it entering my body through my back or my hand or my chest as through my ears. Sound speaks to the sensorium; the entire system of nerves that stimulates sensual responce.
Louis ColaianniMots clés speech body voice sound
Reality is a sound, you have to tune in to it not just keep yelling.
Anne CarsonSometimes, when people speak, I cease listening to their words and zoom in instead on the cadence, and it can seem lovely, and at other times absurd, all this verbiage, these seemingly random consonants clattering on the string that is sound.
Rosie O'DonnellMots clés words sound verbiage
Music is the cup that holds the wine of silence. Sound is that cup, but empty. Noise is that cup, but broken.
Robert FrippMots clés music silence emptiness noise sound
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