Sentences with phrase «near silence at»
His outbursts are so strong and sudden that they often cause a second or two of near silence at noisy tournament sites until everyone figures out «it's just Tim again.»
https://www.si.com/ Not exact matches
The envelopes would sit in a pile near my front door, mocking me each time I came and left, until I had time to sit down at the computer and silence them.
The sound was coming from so far awaywe thought at first it was the breath we missedthe moment we were dead, that very day.It neared us like a moan inside a mistof wishes, harmonizing with the humof silence from a newly pulseless wrist.It was the sigh that light gives when the sumof zeroes grazes....
At the moment Jucker was drowning in a sea of exuberant sound there was a desert of near silence in the nearby Ohio State dressing room.
And like its predecessor, «The Strangers: Prey at Night» works because of the simultaneous familiarity and unfamiliarity of these villains with their covered, immovable faces, near - silence and seemingly unknowable motives for murder.
«Breaking In» far too quickly devolves into unintentional laughs provided by the henchmen, complete with long stretches of near silence, affording the smart alecks in the audience the chance to half - shout, «She's gonna ELECTROCUTE him,» or «There's ONE IN THE CHAMBER» and «Shoot SHOOT» at the screen.
A dresser of wasp - waisted princesses, he pursues his craft in total concentration and near - complete silence: «There's entirely too much movement at breakfast!»
As we all know, nastiness is a deeply revered quality in the American cinema of the 90s — consider all the raves conferred on Silence of the Lambs — but not even Mitchum at his near - best and Herrmann at his second - best could make me like this 60s version.
A curious side - effect: the near - silence of the car at low speeds makes traffic jams (I live in LA) seem less awful!
The envelopes would sit in a pile near my front door, mocking me each time I came and left, until I had time to sit down at the computer and silence them.
, you are lying on the floor of your place looking up, a small draft runs through the room, between the door and the window, and all things seem perfectly still, wind only disturbs concrete in imperceptible ways, or it may take millions of years to be noticed and, as the air runs through the space, all your plants move and all is animated and all is alive somehow, and here are the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me, and that wind upon your plants is the common air that bathes the globe, and we have no ambitions of universalism, and I'm glad we don't, but the particles of air bring traces of pollen and are charged with electricity, desert sand, maybe sea water, and these particles were somewhere else before they were dragged here, and their route will not end by the door of this house, and if we tell each other stories, one can imagine that they might have been bathed by this same air, regrouped and recombined, recharged as a vehicle for sound, swirling as it moves, bringing the sound of a drum, like that Kabuki story where a fox recognizes the voice of its parents as a girl plays a drum made out of their skin, or any other event, and yet I always felt your work never tells stories, I tend to think that narrative implies a past tense, even if that past was just five seconds ago, one second ago was already the past, and human memory is irrelevant in geological time, plants and fish know not what tomorrow will bring, neither rocks nor metal do, but we all live here now, and we all need visions and we all need dreams, and as long as your metal sculptures vibrate they are always in the Present, and their past is a material truth alien to narrative, but well, maybe narrative does not imply a past tense at all and they are writing their own story while they gently move and breathe, and maybe nothing was really still before the wind came in, passing through the window as if through an irrational portal to make those plants dance, but everything was already moving and breathing in near complete silence, and if you're focused enough you can feel the pulse of a concrete wall and you can feel the tectonic movements of the earth, and you can hear the magma flowing under our feet and our bones crackling like a wild fire, and you can see the light of fireflies reflected in polished metal, and there is nothing magical about that, it is just the way things are, and sometimes we have to raise our voice because the music is too loud and let your clothes move to a powerful bass, sound waves and bright lights, powerful like the sun, blinding us if we stare for too long, but isn't it the biggest sign of love, like singing to a corn field, and all acts of kindness that are not pitiful nor utilitarian, that are truly horizontal as everything around us is impregnated with the deadliest violence, vertical and systemic, poisonous, and sometimes you just want to feel the sun burning your skin and look for life in all things declared dead, a kind of vitality that operates like corrosion, strong as the wind near the sea, transforming all things,
Rousing cheers met hundreds of lawyers and notaries as they filed into Place Émilie - Gamelin — one of the focal points for nightly protests in Quebec's widening political and social crisis — following a solemn march in near silence that began almost two hours earlier at Montreal's Palais de Justice, the main courthouse.
Using near field communication technology, SmartTags let you store device preferences for a variety of locations and situations — like opening and controlling volume on the music player if you head out for a run, turning on GPS and Bluetooth in the car or turning on your alarm and silencing your ringer at night.
Somehow the near - perfect silence allowed by the device unleashes more space, and therefore deeper renderings of each instrument, layered in a rich gloss, while remaining snappy at the attack of notes.