“I listened to them fade away till all I could hear was my memory of the sound.”

“All day long they work so hard
Till the sun is goin' down.
Working on the highways and byways
And wearing, wearing a frown.
You hear them moanin' their lives away.
Then you hear somebody say:"That's the sound of the men working on the chain gang.
That's the sound of the men working on the chain gang."”

“All memories fade away in the end. Then, only dreams are left. And because they are all we have, we confide our life’s worries to them.”

“Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don't go along with that. The memories I value most, I don't see them ever fading.”

“Above all, I feel that the sounds of this world are so beautiful in themselves that if only we could listen to them properly, cinema would have no need for music at all.”

“Why did happy memories fade and blur until one could scarcely recall them at all, while horrible memories seemed to retain their blinding clarity and painful sharpness?”

“The very saddest sound in all my memory was burned into my awareness at age five on my uncle's dairy farm in Wisconsin. A cow had given birth to a beautiful male calf. The mother was allowed to nurse her calf but for a single night. On the second day after birth, my uncle took the calf from the mother and placed him in the veal pen in the barn—only ten yards away, in plain view of the mother. The mother cow could see her infant, smell him, hear him, but could not touch him, comfort him, or nurse him. The heartrending bellows that she poured forth—minute after minute, hour after hour, for five long days—were excruciating to listen to. They are the most poignant and painful auditory memories I carry in my brain. Since that age, whenever I hear anyone postulate that animals cannot really feel emotions, I need only to replay that torturous sound in my memory of that mother cow crying her bovine heart out to her infant. Mother's love knows no species barriers, and I believe that all people who are vegans in their hearts and souls know that to be true.”

“I'd tell you all you want and more, if the sounds I made could be what you hear”

“I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen,
And accrue what I hear into myself… and let sound contribute toward me.”

“Tape the sound of the moon fading at dawn. Give it to your mother to listen to when she's in sorrow.”