Clamor Quotes - Page 2

Before the thunderous clamor of political debate or war set loose in the world, love insisted on its promise for the possibility of human unity: between men and women, between blacks and whites, northerners and southerners, haves and have-have-nots, self and self.

Aberjhani

War, Men, Self

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To be listened to is... a nearly unique experience for most people. It is enormously stimulating... Man clamors for the freedom to express himself and for knowing that he counts.

Robert C. Murphy

Unique, Men, Knowing

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In a free country there is much clamor, with little suffering; in a despotic state there is little complaint, with much grievance.

Lazare Carnot

Country, Suffering, Littles

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People with intelligence must use their intelligence, people with eyes must use their eyes, people with the capacity to love have the impulse to love and the need to love in order to feel healthy. Capacities clamor to be used, and cease their clamor only when they are used sufficiently. That is to say, capacities are needs, and therefore are intrinsic values as well.

Abraham Maslow

Eye, Order, Capacity To Love

"Toward a Psychology of Being".

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And all the time - such is the tragic comedy of our situation - we continue to clamor for those very qualities we are rendering impossible. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful.

C. S. Lewis

Men, Laughing, Honor

"The Abolition of Man". Book by C. S. Lewis, 1943.

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But one sound always rose above the clamor of busy life and, no matter how much of a tintinnabulation, was never confused and, fora moment lifted everything into an ordered sphere: that of the bells.

Johan Huizinga

Confused, History, Rose

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Art, if it can be ascribed value, is most valuable when its beauty (and the beauty of the truth it tells) bewilders, confounds, defies evil itself; it does so by making what has been unmade; it subverts the spirit of the age; it mends the heart by whispering mysteries the mind alone can’t fathom; it fulfills its highest calling when into all the clamor of Hell it tells the unbearable, beautiful, truth that Christ has died, Christ is risen, and Christ will come again. None of these songs and stories matter if the beauty they’re adding to isn’t the kind of beauty that redeems and reclaims.

Andrew Peterson

Beautiful, Song, Art

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Africans sensed in their hearts that Jesus did not mock their respect for the sacred or their clamor for an invincible Savior, so they beat their sacred drums for him until the stars skipped and danced in the skies. After that dance the stars weren't little anymore. Christianity helped Africans to become renewed Africans, not remade Europeans.

Lamin Sanneh

Jesus, Stars, Heart

Lamin Sanneh (2003). “Whose Religion Is Christianity?: The Gospel Beyond the West”, p.43, Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing

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Back of the beating hammer By which the steel is wrought, Back of the workshop's clamor The seeker may find the thought.

Berton Braley

Hammers, Steel, May

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Every so often we hear people clamor for a change. Let's change the Constitution, change the form of Government, change everything for better or worse except to change the only thing that needs changing first: The human heart and our standard of success and human values.

William J. H. Boetcker

Change, Heart, Government

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Looking, Walking, Being, I look and look. Looking's a way of being: one becomes, sometimes, a pair of eyes walking. Walking wherever looking takes one. The eyes dig and burrow into the world. They touch, fanfare, howl, madrigal, clamor. World and the past of it, not only visible present, solid and shadow that looks at one looking. And language? Rhythms of echo and interruption? That's a way of breathing. breathing to sustain looking, walking and looking, through the world, in it.

Denise Levertov

Eye, Past, Echoes

Denise Levertov (1998). “Sands of the Well”, p.91, New Directions Publishing

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Don't wish today away. Don't waste it. Redeem one hour to be grateful. Let your thanksgiving rise above the din of disappointment - opportunities lost, mistakes made, the clamor of all that has not yet come.

Sarah Ban Breathnach

Disappointment, Mistake, Grateful

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The thorough bred against a clamor, or rather the Porsche vs. the pickup truck.

Larry Merchant

Porsche, Truck, Thorough

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It may sound paradoxical, but however tight our schedule, however many things clamor to be done, we don't need to hurry. If we can keep our mind calm and go about our business with undivided attention, we will not only accomplish more but we'll do a better job - and find ourselves more patient, more at peace.

Eknath Easwaran

Jobs, Mind, Sound

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Strength, strength alone, is honorable, the German nation clamors in its majesty. But since it is hard to muster strength so suddenly, they have to make do with boorishness.

Franz Grillparzer

Strength, Majesty, Honorable

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I see the angel Moroni, standing atop the temple, as a shining symbol of [our] faith. I love Moroni, because in a degenerate society, he remained pure and true. He is my hero. He stood alone. I feel somehow he stands atop the temple today, beckoning us to have courage, to remember who we are and to be worthy to enter the holy temple, to 'arise and shine forth,' to stand above the worldly clamor and to, as Isaiah prophesied, 'Come to the mountain of the Lord'-the holy temple.

Elaine S. Dalton

Hero, Angel, Shining

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What's the meaning of all the pious clamor, condemning cocks and hens? Those who have no teeth are the greatest meat-haters.

Franz Grillparzer

Hypocrisy, Hens, Meat

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Deaf folk hear the fairies However soft their song; 'Tis we who lose the honey sound Amid the clamor all around That beats the whole day long.

Rose Fyleman

Song, Angel, Long

Rose Fyleman, “White Magic”

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There is a contemptibly quiet path for all those who are afraid of the blows and clamor of opposing forces. There is no honorable fighting for a man who is not ready to forget that he has a head to be battered and a name to be bespattered. Truth wants no champion who is not as ready to be struck as to strike for her.

J. G. Holland

Courage, Fighting, Blow

"Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers" by Josiah Hotchkiss Gilbert, p. 166, 1895.

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Our memories have voices, too. Often sad ones that clamor like raised arms in the dark.

Stephen King

Memories, Dark, Voice

Stephen King (2008). “Duma Key: A Novel”, p.478, Simon and Schuster

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And so, from the first, we separated our pleasure. She lay on the rug and I lay at right angles to her so that only our lips might meet. Kissing in this way is the strangest of distractions. The greedy body that clamors for satisfaction is forced to content itself with a single sensation and, just as the blind hear more acutely and the deaf can feel the grass grow, so the mouth becomes the focus of love and all things pass through it and are re-defined. It is a sweet and precise torture.

Jeanette Winterson

Sweet, Kissing, Focus

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I realized the shells were talking in a voice I recognized. I should have; it was my own. Had I always known that? I suppose I had. On some level, unless we're mad, I think most of us know the various voices of our own imaginations. And of our memories, of course. They have voices, too. Ask anyone who has ever lost a limb or a child or a long-cherished dream. Ask anyone who blames himself for a bad decision, usually made in a raw instant (an instant that is most commonly red). Our memories have voices, too. Often sad ones that clamor like raised arms in the dark.

Stephen King

Dream, Memories, Children

Stephen King (2008). “Duma Key: A Novel”, p.478, Simon and Schuster

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Well. Then we had the irises, rising beautiful and cool on their tall stalks, like blown glass, like pastel water momentarily frozen in a splash, light blue, light mauve, and the darker ones, velvet and purple, black cat's ears in the sun, indigo shadow, and the bleeding hearts, so female in shape it was a surprise they'd not long since been rooted out. There is something subversive about this garden of Serena's, a sense of buried things bursting upwards, wordlessly, into the light, as if to point, to say: Whatever is silenced will clamor to be heard, though silently.

Margaret Atwood

Beautiful, Cat, Heart

Margaret Atwood (1986). “The Handmaid's Tale”, p.153, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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Days pass when I forget the mystery. Problems insoluble and problems offering their own ignored solutions jostle for my attention, they crowd its antechamber along with a host of diversions, my courtiers, wearing their colored clothes; caps and bells. And then once more the quiet mystery is present to me, the throng's clamor recedes: the mystery that there is anything, anything at all, let alone cosmos, joy, memory, everything, rather than void: and that, 0 Lord, Creator, Hallowed one, You still, hour by hour sustain it.

Denise Levertov

Memories, Clothes, Offering

Denise Levertov (1997). “The Stream & the Sapphire: Selected Poems on Religious Themes”, p.33, New Directions Publishing

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I have never been carried around by a large boy, or laughed until my stomach hurt at the dinner table, or listened to the clamor of a hundred people all talking at once. Peace is restrained; this is free.

Veronica Roth

Peace, Hurt, Boys

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