#roar

The moral effect of the thundering of one's own artillery is most extraordinary, and many of us thought that we had never heard any more welcome sound than the deep roaring and crashing that started in at our rear. ↗

— Fritz Kreisler

#artillery #crashing #deep #effect #extraordinary

The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadows. ↗

— P. G. Wodehouse

#because #butterflies #him #least #links

She stepped forward as if to pick up the fur she'd tossed over a chair. Smoothly, she turned to hand it to him. And with perfect timing, flung herself into his arms. The sable fell as he took her shoulders to shove her back. Eve stepped to the doorway to see Magdelana with her arms locked around Roarke's neck, his hands on her bare shoulders--one of the ivory straps sliding to her elbow. "Son of a bitch," she said. On cue, Magdelana spun around, her face full of passion and shock. "Oh, God. Oh...it's not what it looks like." "Bet." Eve strode in. Actually, Roarke thought, it was more of a swagger. He had a moment to admire it, before Eve rammed her fist in his face. "Fuck me." His head snapped back, and he tasted blood. Magdelana cried out, but even the deaf would have caught the suppressed laughter in the sound. "Roarke! Oh, my God, you're bleeding. Please, let me just--" "Don't look now," Eve said cheerfully. "But he's not the only one." She decked Magdelana with a straight-armed jab. "Bitch," Eve added as Magdelana's eyes rolled back and she fell, unconscious, to the floor. Roarke looked down. "Well, now, fuck us all. ↗

— J.D. Robb

#roarke #death

When the tempest rages, when the thunders roar, and the lightnings blaze around us it is then that the truly brave man stands firm at his post. ↗

— Luther Martin

#blaze #brave #brave man #firm #his

The voice of the intelligence is drowned out by the roar of fear. It is ignored by the voice of desire. It is contradicted by the voice of shame. It is biased by hate and extinguished by anger. Most of all it is silenced by ignorance. ↗

— Karl A. Menninger

#biased #contradicted #desire #drowned #extinguished

A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. ↗

— John Muir

#bowing #branches #cease #ear #enthusiasm

But aesthetics is not religion, and the origins of religion lie somewhere completely different. They lie anyway, these roses smell too sweet and the deep roar of the breaking waves is too splendid, to do justice to such weighty matters now. ↗

— Rudolf Otto

#breaking #completely #deep #different #justice

Down below the broad, roaring waves of the sea break against the deep foundation of the rock. But high above the mountain, the sea, and the peaks of rock the eternal ornamentation blooms silently from the dark depths of the universe. ↗

— Rudolf Otto

#against #below #blooms #break #broad

I can hear the roar of women's silence. ↗

— Thomas Sankara

#i #i can #roar #silence #women

The noise resembles the roar of heavy, distant surf. Standing on the stirring ice one can imagine it is disturbed by the breathing and tossing of a mighty giant below. ↗

— Ernest Shackleton

#breathing #distant #disturbed #giant #heavy