I suppose it never hurts to be reminded that none of us are that far away from larceny. Actually, it’s the people who make the most righteous moral noises that I worry about the most.
Never allow gradually the traffic to smother with noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.
It is loneliness that makes the loudest noise. This is as true of men as of dogs.
A slight sound at evening lifts me up by the ears, and makes life inexpressibly serene and grand. It may be in Uranus, or it may be in the shutter.
He who sleeps in continual noise is wakened by silence.
The noises, too, were perpetual, and of the most unpleasant kind; the applause is expressed by cries and thumping with the feet, instead of clapping; and when a patriotic fit seized them, and “Yankee Doodle” was called for, every man seemed to think his reputation as a citizen depended on the noise he made.
All noise is waste. So cultivate quietness in your speech, in your thoughts, in your emotions. Speak habitually low. Wait for attention and then you low words will be charged with dynamite.
Noisier than a mule in a tin barn.
When God ripens apples, he isn’t in a hurry and doesn’t make a noise.
The frog’s own croak betrays him.