Listening To Loud Music Quotes

Cry Out in Your Weakness
A dragon was pulling a bear into its terrible mouth.
A courageous man went and rescued the bear.
There are such helpers in the world, who rush to save
anyone who cries out. Like Mercy itself,
they run toward the screaming.
And they can't be bought off.
If you were to ask one of those, "Why did you come
so quickly?" He or she would say, "Because I heard
your helplessness."
Where lowland is,
that's where water goes. All medicine wants
is pain to cure.
And don't just ask for one mercy.
Let them flood in. Let the sky open under your feet.
Take the cotton out of your ears, the cotton
of consolations, so you can hear the sphere-music. . . .
Give your weakness
to One Who Helps.
Crying out loud and weeping are great resources.
A nursing mother, all she does
is wait to hear her child.
Just a little beginning-whimper,
and she's there.
God created the child, that is, your wanting,
so that it might cry out, so that milk might come.
Cry out! Don't be stolid and silent
with your pain. Lament! And let the milk
of Loving flow into you.
The hard rain and wind
are ways the cloud has
to take care of us.
Be patient.
Respond to every call
that excites your spirit.
Ignore those that make you fearful
and sad, that degrade you
back toward disease and death. ~ Rumi

Adam " Lori called loudly enough for me to hear her but not so loud that her voice would carry up to my mom in the marina office- or to her dad who might be listening from their screened porch facing the water.

"I came over to get some tips from the boys about teaching Tammy and Rachel to board. Of course I did not come over here to see you. How could you think such a thing That would be disobedient."

I held up the wax.
"For my own disobedience I have to buff the boat. Then I'm going for a jog."
She tilted her head. Probably her eyes widened but I couldn't see them behind her sunglasses. I hated not being able to see her eyes.
She asked "In this heat?"
I didn't mind jogging in the heat. The heat was a big friendly animal that liked to wrestle and only occasionally sat on me until I lost my breath. Anyway she was missing the point.

I repeated carefully "I am GOING for a JOG."
"I HEARD you the FIRST time " she said. "It's late afternoon in the middle of June. It's ninety-five degrees out here."
"He means he's GOING for a JOG" Rachel and Tammy said at the same time.
"He's GOING for a JOG."
Lori still didn't get it. Normally her blondeness was one of the things I loved about her. At the moment not so much.
Exasperated Cameron told her "Adam wants you to go for a jog too."
She said "Oh "
"If you two airheads have to hook up secretly for very long " Sean said "you're not going to ~ Jennifer Echols

In the hall itself the din of the music - for this is the real way to play a jukebox and what it was originally for - was so tremendous that it shattered Dean and Stan and me for a moment in the realization that we had never dared to play music as we wanted, and this was how loud we wanted. ~ Jack Kerouac

You should be loud enough to be heard, but not overshadow the soloist or the other members of the rhythm section. Finding this volume balance is critical for a good feeling in the band. Creating bass lines ~ Sher Music

The people were all busy in their cars, listening to the radio, so there was no one to smile at, so I just sent my love to the traffic lights. No one ever appreciates them, all day long, working so hard to turn red and yellow and green, right in time with us to make sure we don't crash into each other. If there was any tiny chance, even the tiniest chance, that they happened to be alive, I bet I was the first person ever to tell them they were special. You are special, I said out loud in my car, but in case they couldn't hear, I cracked my window open. "You are special," I said, to the night air.
And just like that, a green light. ~ Aimee Bender

sheets, I keep hearing something - or someone - calling, just loud enough to pierce the walls. The voice is surely something more than wind, curling and twisting itself into highs and lows, like muffled music. I know that if only I could lean closer, words would become clear, distinct. Words that wouldn't break apart before I can wrap my mind around them. ~ Victoria Schwab

I'm like a little kid when it comes to music. I mean, the music is always blasting wherever I am that people always knock on my door and say, 'It's too loud!' But I think music gives so much inspiration. ~ Donatella Versace

Back in Russia, where they're still getting acclimated to the whole capitalism thing, most TV advertising took a straightforward approach to persuasion. Thus, even though I don't speak Russian, I had no trouble understanding Russian ads. They were all along the lines o: "Oh, no, there's a stain on the tablecloth! What will Mom do? Thank goodness for this effective detergent!" Not so in Japan, where sophisticated consumers have grown bored with simple persuasion, forcing advertisers to get wildly inventive. Japanese TV ads have at this point evolved into an abstract mishmash of symbols and sounds. Your average thirty-second Japanese commercial is something like: Here's a man holding a giraffe. Now the giraffe morphs into a rainbow. The rainbow is friends with a talking pencil, and they live together on a spaceship. A few seconds of laughter! A snippet of loud reggae music! Fad out. At least half the time, I have no idea what the product being advertised is or what it does. And yet I very much enjoy the ads. They're like short-acting hallucinogens. ~ Seth Stevenson

He had bucked harder with me than the fellows expected him to, and I don't know how I stayed on. I guess I was just too scared to fall off. Anyway, Mr. Cooper shook hands with me after Hi lifted me down. He said, "By God, you're going to make a cow poke, Little Britches. As long as you're with me you can call him your own horse." Then he laughed, and said to the other men, "I thought, by God, the kid was going to pull that one-inch hackamore rope in two before the music stopped."
Father never swore, and I know I wouldn't ever have said it out loud, but before I really knew what I was thinking, "By God, I thought so, too," went through my head. ~ Ralph Moody

you really have love at home then why are you in a place where the music is too loud and men can't see you beyond an erection? If you are truly fulfilled then why are you half drunk and ready to let a random man stick his cock in you? If there is truly happiness in the club then why isn't there happiness in the music or the people and why is shit always popping off? The club is the loneliest place on Earth and I've only pretended to be a fan ~ LOVE VINCENT

Yuki-eh, you must learn to be a lady.

I don't think I ever quite learned to do that. I liked my music loud. My skirts short - I know, Mommy, even this one is too short! She wanted me to marry a lawyer - instead, I became one. ~ James Patterson

There was a loud scraping noise as five chairs slid backward. The men rose as a unit. And started coming for her. She looked to the faces of the two she knew, but their grave expressions weren't encouraging. And then the knives came out. With a metallic whoosh, five black daggers were unsheathed. She backed up frantically, hands in front of herself. She slammed into a wall and was about to scream for Wrath when the men dropped down on bended knees in a circle around her. In a single movement, as if they'd been choreographed, they buried the daggers into the floor at her feet and bowed their heads. The great whoomp of sound as steel met wood seemed both a pledge and a battle cry. The handles of the knives vibrated. The rap music continued to pound. They seemed to be waiting for some kind of response from her.
"Umm. Thank you," she said.
The men's heads lifted. Etched into the harsh planes of their faces was total reverence. Even the scarred one had a respectful expression. And then Wrath came in with a squeeze bottle of Hershey's syrup.
"Bacon's on the way." He smiled. "Hey, they like you."
"And thank God for that," she murmured, looking down at the daggers. ~ J.R. Ward

You know what punk is? a bunch of no-talent guys who really, really want to be in a band. Nobody reads music, nobody plays the mandolin, and you're too dumb to write songs about mythology or Middle-earth. So what's your style? Three chords, cranked out fast and loud and distorted because your instruments are crap and you can't play them worth a damn. And you scream your lungs out to cover up the fact that you can't sing. It should suck, but here's the thing - it doesn't. Rock and roll can be so full of itself, but not this. It's simple and angry and raw. ~ Gordon Korman

When we get out of highschool we'll look back and know we did everything right, that we kissed the cutest boys and went to the best parties, got in just enough trouble, listened to our music too loud, smoked too many cigarettes, and drank too much and laughed too much and listened too little, or not al all. ~ Lauren Oliver

I'm addicted to laughing. I go to see a lot of comedy shows. I'm addicted to playing really loud and obnoxious rock music in my car. I'm addicted to beautiful clothes and shoes. I just love gorgeous stuff and work hard to acquire pretty things, shiny things. I'm addicted to shiny things! ~ Nadia Giosia

Luke grabs my hand. I turn to see a look of pure horror on his face. "This," he says, "is a dance?" "You were expecting what?" I say. "Why are they not dancing?" I look around the gym again. "Well, most people are dancing." I nod at the freshman boys, who have resorted to doing the robot. "They're dancing." Luke looks completely unconvinced. "And the music," he says, "is it always this.....loud?" I laugh. "You sound like you're forty. You have been to a dance before, right?" Luke looks offended. "Yes. Of course. But it was more..." he surveys the gyrating bodies around us "....civilised that this." He turns to me accusatory. "And you. Have you been to a dance? ~ Laura Bradley Rede

I sigh. Because love is all around me. And I'm Ms. Lonely.
And then my gaze is moving . . . I don't have to scan the room to find Logan, I know just where he is - it's as if my brain has a 24/7 GPS on him.
But the crazy, awesome, amazing thing that gets my heart pounding so loud it drowns out the sound of the music? When I look at Logan St. James across the room, he's not searching the crowd for threats. He's not looking in front of him, so he's ready for whatever may come.
Instead, when I indulge in my daily Logan stare-fest . . . he's staring right back at me. ~ Emma Chase

I had an old man moment the other day. I went into Abercrombie & Fitch to get some jeans and the music was so loud I couldn't stay. ~ Harry Connick, Jr.

I have sometimes thought that the mere hearing of those songs would do more to impress some minds with the horrible character of slavery, than the reading of whole volumes of philosophy on the subject could do.

I did not, when a slave, understand the deep meaning of those rude and apparently incoherent songs. I was myself within the circle; so that I neither saw nor heard as those without might see and hear. They told a tale of woe which was then altogether beyond my feeble comprehension; they were tones loud, long, and deep; they breathed the prayer and complaint of souls boiling over with bitterest anguish. Every tone was a testimony against slavery, and a prayer to God for deliverance from chains. The hearing of those wild notes always depressed my spirit, and filled me with ineffable sadness. I have frequently found myself in tears while hearing them. The mere recurrence to those songs, even now, afflicts me; and while I am writing these lines, an expression of feeling has already found its way down my cheek. To those songs I trace my first glimmering conception of the dehumanizing character of slavery. I can never get rid of that conception. Those songs still follow me, to deepen my hatred of slavery, and quicken my sympathies for my brethren in bonds. If any one wishes to be impressed with the soul-killing effects of slavery, let him go to Colonel Lloyd's plantation, and, on allowance-day, place himself in the deep pine woods, and there let him, in silence, a ~ Frederick Douglass

As far as music being something that's not background, it doesn't mean that it's loud, it means that it's instantly something to dwell on and process and swallow and regurgitate. ~ Youth Lagoon

I put on the most serious face I could muster. "We're about to embark on a journey." I used the Twilight Zone voice. "Full of involuntary sleepless nights, throw-up, and out-of-control behavior. Our freedom will no longer exist; our identities will vanish before our very eyes. We. Will. Be. PARENTS!" I mimicked loud, thundering music.

"Glad you're excited," Mia said. ~ Renee Carlino

Ten years later, while I was innocently pole-dancing at a seedy gay bar in Michigan, I bumped into Andrea. I screamed over the loud music that I wanted to introduce her to my boyfriend, and she yelled back that she wanted to introduce me to her girlfriend. Funny how all things work out, if you just give them a decade. ~ Tyler Oakley

5. Differentiation is easiest to make when the stimulus is smallest. In Awareness Through Movement, Feldenkrais wrote, "If I raise an iron bar I shall not feel the difference if a fly either lights on it or leaves it. If, on the other hand I am holding a feather, I shall feel a distinct difference if the fly were to settle on it. The same applies to all the senses: hearing, sight, smell, taste, heat, and cold." If a sensory stimulus is very great (say, very loud music), we can notice a change in the level of that stimulus only if the change is quite significant. If the stimulus is small to begin with, then we can detect very small changes. (This phenomenon is called the Weber-Fechner law in physiology.) ~ Norman Doidge

The music was loud but mellow. It was a mix-tape of ballads but by heavy metal artists. All the songs said the same thing: it's okay to take a three-minute break from fighting and fucking and drinking; love your girlfriend and be sad; unclench your fist and hold someone until it's time to rock again. ~ Dave Newman

THERE WAS A BOY"

THERE was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander!--many a time,
At evening, when the earliest stars began
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone,
Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake;
And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands
Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth
Uplifted, he, as through an instrument,
Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls, 10
That they might answer him.--And they would shout
Across the watery vale, and shout again,
Responsive to his call,--with quivering peals,
And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud
Redoubled and redoubled; concourse wild
Of jocund din! And, when there came a pause
Of silence such as baffled his best skill:
Then, sometimes, in that silence, while he hung
Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise
Has carried far into his heart the voice 20
Of mountain-torrents; or the visible scene
Would enter unawares into his mind
With all its solemn imagery, its rocks,
Its woods, and that uncertain heaven received
Into the bosom of the steady lake.
This boy was taken from his mates, and died
In childhood, ere he was full twelve years old.
Pre-eminent in beauty is the vale
Where he was born and bred: the churchyard hangs
Upon a slope above the village-school; 30
An ~ William Wordsworth

It's like if the music is loud enough I won't be able to listen to my own thoughts. ~ Nic Sheff

While Lou loved the raucous music, loud voices, and chaotic movement of a dinner rush, the calm of prep-work soothed her soul and gave her time to think. Some people did downward dog, some burned incense in front of a Buddha statue, some prayed the rosary; Lou chopped the vegetables into tiny squares, filleted fish, and reduced veal stock. Her meditation smelled better, and even if she didn't find a solution, at least she got to eat. ~ Amy E. Reichert

'I don't want to grow up', Tom Waits said it. I live it. I put myself in a position to be a kid as long as I want to. I play loud music and scream for a living. ~ Jason Newsted

She was cuckoo about dime stores, where she bought cosmetics and pins and combs. After we locked the expensive purchases in the station wagon we went into McCory's or Kresge's and were there by the hour, up and down the aisles with the multitude, mostly of women, and in the loud-played love music. Some things Thea liked to buy cheaply, they maybe gave her the best sense of the innermost relations of pennies and nickels and explained the real depth of money. I don't know. But I didn't think myself too good to be wandering in the dime store with her. I went where and as she said and did whatever she wanted because I was threaded to her as if through the skin. So that any trifling object she took pleasure in could become important to me at once; anything at all, a comb or hairpin or piece of line, a compass inside a tin ring that she bought with great satisfaction, or a green billed baseball cap for the road, or the kitten she kept in the apartment - she would never be anywhere without an animal. ~ Saul Bellow

Hyun Joong hyung listens to music so loud that the neighbors are telling us to move out. ~ Kim Kyu-jong

But at home, that same day he'd jumped into the fountain, he'd gotten so anxious, pacing around the living room listening to his parents try to calm him, that he suddenly just lost it completely and slapped his face. He immediately started crying, confused and guilty, looking up at his parents like he had no idea how it happened. And, really, that's the way it always was with the hitting. It would happen so fast, his body shaking to release the tension that built up from all the thoughts swirling through his mind and all the air he was having trouble breathing and all the loud beating of his own heart ringing in his ears. It had to get out and that was the path it chose. Slap. Instant relief. ~ John Corey Whaley

Stop hiding! Stop holding yourself back and playing yourself down! Stop worrying about how you look and what people are saying. Stop listening to what people are saying and trying to find out if they are whispering about you. Stop waiting for someone to tell you that you are okay or to make you feel special. Life is special! It is a special gift. This is your life! Now take your gift and live it out in the open! Decide today that you are going to live out loud! ~ Iyanla Vanzant

Revolution ain't nothing but an extent of evolution; Evolution is a fact of nature. So when old folks tell me that they don't understand hip hop and the music is too loud, well I guess it means you're not supposed to be in there. ~ Dick Gregory

No voice is so loud that it can demand that we listen to it. ~ Craig D. Lounsbrough

Chapter 1.
He adored New York City. He idolized it all out of proportion...no, make that: he - he romanticized it all out of proportion. Yeah. To him, no matter what the season was, this was still a town that existed in black and white and pulsated to the great tunes of George Gershwin.'

Uh, no let me start this over.

'Chapter 1.
He was too romantic about Manhattan, as he was about everything else. He thrived on the hustle bustle of the crowds and the traffic. To him, New York meant beautiful women and street-smart guys who seemed to know all the angles...'.

Ah, corny, too corny for my taste. Can we ... can we try and make it more profound?

'Chapter 1.
He adored New York City. For him, it was a metaphor for the decay of contemporary culture. The same lack of individual integrity that caused so many people to take the easy way out was rapidly turning the town of his dreams in...'

No, that's going to be too preachy. I mean, you know, let's face it, I want to sell some books here.

'Chapter 1.
He adored New York City, although to him it was a metaphor for the decay of contemporary culture. How hard it was to exist in a society desensitized by drugs, loud music, television, crime, garbage...'

Too angry, I don't want to be angry.

'Chapter 1.
He was as tough and romantic as the city he loved. Behind his black-rimmed glasses was the coiled sexual power of a jungle cat.'Woody Allen

Gershwin Manhatten New York City Woody Allen Writing