“But… you're still getting married?" Grover sounded hurt. "Who's the bride?" Ploypemus looked toward the boiling pot. Clarisse made a strangled sound. "Oh, no! You can't be serious. I'm not-”

“But oh for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!”

“I'm hiding underground, I can't hear no sound”

“You know, look, if I could strangle these people and not go to hell and get executed, I would, but I can't.”

“It sounds like I'm always being facetious. That's why I never get voice over work. 'You sound like you hate the product.”

“To me, I took a militant attitude towards sounds. I wanted sounds to be a metaphor, that they could be as free as a human being might be free. That was my idea about sound. It still is, that they should breathe … not to be used for the vested interest of an idea. I feel that music should have no vested interests, that you shouldn't know how it's made, that you shouldn't know if there's a system, that you shouldn't know anything about it … except that it's some kind of life force that to some degree really changes your life … if you're into it.”

“Listen to the secret sound, the real sound, which is inside you. The one no one talks of speaks the secret sound to himself, and he is the one who has made it all.”

“The answer is no, I would rather marry the Demon King himself than marry you. I
suggest you look elsewhere for a bride. And heaven help the one you choose.”

“It's terrible
the faint sound of a hard boiled egg firmly cracked on a tin counter
it's terrible this faint sound
when it stirs the memory of a starving man”

“This is a stick-up, everybody get face-down. Ren, gag their mouths so they can't make a sound. Tie em up for the fact that I'm kickin ass”