"Blaring" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... the middle of the pious harmony that had stirred her soul, some blaring trumpet had played a polka, in another key, it could hardly have jarred more upon her devotional frame, than did this earthly line, that glared out between two gigantic yule candles, just lighted in honor of Him, whose mother was in ...
— Put Yourself in His Place • Charles Reade
... street changed; the buildings grew lower, and the quiet and fashionable ground-floor shops and cafes gave place to bargain stores, their audio-advertisers whooping urgently about improbable prices and offerings, and garish, noisy, crowded bars and cafeterias blaring recorded popular music. There was quite a bit of political advertising in evidence—huge pictures of the two major senatorial candidates. He estimated that Chester Pelton's bald head and bulldog features appeared twice for every one of Grant Hamilton's white locks, old-fashioned spectacles ...
— Null-ABC • Henry Beam Piper and John Joseph McGuire
... thou, to bed with thee, Puffed, swollen body; and ye bursting veins, Ye reddened eyes, and thou putrescent mouth, Off to a solitary bed, and night, Dark, noiseless night instead of brazen torches And blaring horns! ...
— The German Classics, v. 20 - Masterpieces of German Literature • Various
... disposition seemed scarcely to have warranted these trifling blows. I was moved to compassion as it sat upon the jaw-bone of a whale, which projected beneath the tafrail, at one moment devouring pieces of its mother and sister with avidity, and at the next stretching its throat and blaring out mournfully, when a fragment of ice met its view, passing astern as we sailed on our course. It was about the size of a sheep, and after their tea the sailors got it down below, and turned it loose betwixt decks, from whence it sent up all hands with precipitation, some of them ...
— The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction - Volume 13, No. 362, Saturday, March 21, 1829 • Various
... out of darkness through the binnacle light almost took the boy off his feet. It pounded his oilskin, stung his face. The enormous iron dock groaned and clanged under the mad bastinado. The long arms of the shoring stanchions smote the walls in a kind of terrific anvil chorus to the blaring orchestra of the tempest. The joints of the three huge pontoons sounded as if they were being rent asunder every moment. One minute the great structure would rise dizzily, high into the black blast, a skyscraper flung up on a mountain Madden could look far below on the lights of ...
— The Cruise of the Dry Dock • T. S. Stribling
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