The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it does not rest until it has gained a hearing.
quote by Sigmund Freud
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it does not rest until it has gained a hearing. Ultimately, after endlessly repeated rebuffs, it succeeds. This is one of the few points in which it may be optimistic about the future of mankind, but in itself it signifies not a little.
quote by Sigmund Freud
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
The hearing aids are very helpful for speech reading. Without the hearing aids, my voice becomes very loud, and I cannot control the quality of my voice.
quote by Marlee Matlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Power of the Voice
Have we become such a slave to social media that we forgot the power of the voice?
Hearing I love you is so much more meaningful then seeing a smiling avatar with a heart.
Actual of hearing the sound of someone laughing is more joyful then LOL.
Someone saying I am sorry is more powerful than a face with a teardropp running down.
As much as we communicate with one another these days to me it seems as if the world has gone mute.
We have forgotten the power of the voice.
When there is a voice in a piece of music, we tend to focus on the voice. That is probably something from when we were babies and we depended on hearing our mother's voice.
quote by Robert Wyatt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lonely Tombs
(e) I was strollin one day, in a lonely graveyard,
When a voice from the tomb, seemed to (b7) say,
I once (e) lived as you live, walked and talked as you talk,
But from earth I was (b7) soon called a- (e) way.
Chorus
(e) oh, those tombs, (oh those tombs),
Lonely tombs, (lonely tombs ),
Seemed to say in a low gentle (b7) tone,
Oh how (e) sweet, (oh how sweet),
Is the rest, (is the rest),
In our beautiful, (b7) heavenly (e) home.
Every voice from the tomb, seemed to whisper and say,
Livin man you must soon follow me,
And I thought as I gazed, on that cold marble slab,
What a sad lonesome place that must be.
Repeat chorus
I then came to the place, where my mother did lay,
And her voice, soft and low, from the tomb,
It said, son Im at rest, with the savior above,
I am safe in my heavenly home.
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Recognize Your Voice
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
when I enter a room full of people
and even your soft steps each day
catches me with a tingle time after time,
through your beauty that flowers continually.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
sometimes it feels as if you are waiting on me
but constantly you do astound me
and even your soft steps each day
has a kind of skipping to them
and with being in love I am stupid.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter,
sometimes hear it echoing at night
although your face is disguised by the darkness
and even your soft steps each day,
but our love is not a game of force
and still continually you turn my life upside down.
I recognize your voice, your cheerful laughter
and even your soft steps each day
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunprincess III
On grey and rainy days such as these
thoughts of her keep the spirits high on
honeyed day dream mead
heaven's soft potent drug
the light she gives is gained in sweat
she is the symbol of man's labor
peace love and his stress
brightest star in the sky
when found by seeking eyes
she appears before the night
out shining all the rest
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Walked With The Lines Of Others In My Mind
I WALKED WITH THE LINES OF OTHERS IN MY MIND
I walked with the lines of others in my mind
Greater lines by far than my own -
But they were the lines of others
Hearing them I could not hear myself -
I walked and let my own voice tell itself
It knew it was a lesser thing
But it was my voice
And hearing it
I know I am alive.
There are a few great poets
But there are many small poets too.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His Voice Only
Rest my voice...
In fast and scattered passages.
Too many choices,
My mind searches from within.
Let me hear His voice.
His voice only...
I choose for me now.
His voice only...
Let 'it' sink in!
Let me realize my eyes are His too!
To 'see' what it is I need,
And what I should and should not do!
My purpose and worth,
Will with Him increase.
I want to hear His voice only.
And let my life upon His wishes feast!
Rest my voice...
In fast and scattered passages.
Too many choices,
My mind searches from within.
Let me hear His voice.
His voice only...
I choose for me now.
His voice only...
Let 'it' sink in!
Deeper,
Within me somehow!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The higher the voice the smaller the intellect.
quote by Ernest Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Soft Things
Soft things
You want soft things
You need soft things
Youll get soft things
You register a motion
You get a helpful hint
Theres a certain way it shivers when she shakes
Her mind seemed so chaotic
Her posture was erotic
And her voice was exotic
I acted so neurotic
I thought it idiotic
Her dance was so technotic
She became hypnotic
And now Im calling out for soft things
Something soft when times get hard
And now Im calling out for soft things
When something calls you youll know what to do
You find a longer wavelength
You hear a deeper note
Its a buried treasure that she doesnt hide
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Memory In The Mist
Looking through the
mist of the past
Hearing the ego of
your voice in my dreams
Seeing your shadow in
our secret places
Your voice caught me
without a warning
Fire of hate burning
Why didn’t I listen
to the voices of
warnin’
The snake at the back
of your voice
That was so perfectly
disguise as an angel
Walking slowly through
the rain of my tears
Memories of us are
running through my
mind,
cuts me open
without a warning
The rose of promise
in your eyes
Trying to catch the
fallen promises
Reaching for a
Disneyland love
Remember the words
you spoke
Your gentle touch
on my skin
The soft glance in
your eyes
If only I could see
the twisted lies
underneath the beauty
You’re the only one
who really knew me
If only I could let
you turn around
and see the leaves-pain
fell
Now, your face is
just a memory in
the mist
poem by Chanelle Strijdom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There is not enough high intellect to be catered to and when most people think of Hiphop they think of low intellect.
quote by Slick Rick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
We should not pretend to understand the world only by the intellect. The judgement of the intellect is only part of the truth.
When Escalations Of Misdeeds Increase
A process of selective hearing,
Eliminates active listening...
With a comprehension done.
We all have been guilty,
Of hearing what we choose to hear.
Only to misunderstand with attitude to gain.
And when an attitude obtained is gained,
What remains is conflict to offer.
As if a victory will be achieved.
When escalations of misdeeds increase,
There is little evidence that peace will be left...
To be kept respected.
A process of selective hearing,
Eliminates active listening...
With a comprehension done.
When escalations of misdeeds increase,
There is little evidence that peace will be left...
To be kept respected.
That is not the goal,
When an ego has been unleashed...
From its confines of common sense.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Voice Of Love
Scanning the land,
With her soft and alert eyes;
Searching for the 'clawed' ones
Whose thought alone chilled her spine,
With a thorough look at every side
Only after the last vestige of doubt had died;
She called him just like her mother used to,
In her soft and alert voice,
' Come my son, come....'
Protecting him from the unseen danger,
She could not risk being scared;
Because with every step she took she knew,
History would shout 'encore',
For the day when her mother made her run,
But never met her at home,
And all that she remembered of her,
Was her soft and alert voice,
' Run my daughter, run....'
She eyed her son to be sure,
But quickly focused away,
To the silent movements in the land,
To the visible unseen danger;
They were far, she could escape,
But her son was weak and slow,
And in a hurry she called to him,
In her soft and alert voice,
' Quick my son, quick....'
Faster than a bullet, swifter than the wind,
She could run and she knew that well,
But the thing she knew well the most,
Her son was weak and slow,
She had to protect him now,
He deserved no pain, was all she knew.
She turned around and fought her death,
She knew no pain, her son was safe,
And all she said while drifting to sleep,
Was in her soft and alert voice,
' Run my son, run....'
poem by Kanishk Gupta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Language is the soul of intellect, and reading is the essential process by which that intellect is cultivated beyond the commonplace experiences of everyday life.
quote by Charles Scribner, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
As you see, I do not treat the creation of fiction, that to say the invention and development of fantasies, as a form of abstract thought. I don't wish to deny the uses of the intellect, but sometimes one has the intuition that the intellect by itself will lead one nowhere.
quote by J.M. Coetzee
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Dasgupta asks...
What have you gained
if you have not gained yourself,
yourself the immortal,
yourself the infinite ?
What have you gained
if you have never tasted in your life
the deep longing to be free,
the deep longing to be liberated?
The spirit of the saints of all the ages
whispers in my ears -
what have you gained
if you have never tasted
the joys of self-surrender?
If your heart has not longed
to make of you a flute
in the hands of Krishna,
master musician of the universe?
And if you have not been able
to sweeten all your miseries
with a touch of God?
(versified from a lecture in Evanston, US, in 1926)
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As you see, I do not treat the creation of fiction, that to say the invention and development of fantasies, as a form of abstract thought. I dont wish to deny the uses of the intellect, but sometimes one has the intuition that the intellect by itself will lead one nowhere.
quote by J.M. Coetzee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!