In Some Mayan Villages They Even Have A Stage Beyond The Elder That They Call The Echo Person. They Say That When An Echo Person, Whether A Man Or A Woman, Speaks, The Words Echo Both In This World And In The Other World. That's Why They Are Called Echo People.
To Write Is To Make Oneself The Echo Of What Cannot Cease Speaking - And Since It Cannot, In Order To Become Its Echo I Have, In A Way, To Silence It. I Bring To This Incessant Speech The Decisiveness, The Authority Of My Own Silence.
I Feel The Need To Scream, And Even If The Scream Is Not Answered, I Find My Sanity In The Echo.
The Thing Is, The Kids Always Rebel Against What The Parents Try To Push On Them So I'm Going To Pretend Like I Don't Want My Son To Hear The Rock. I'm Going To Listen To It Only In My Private Chambers. He'll Hear Echoes Of It And Say: "what Was That You Were Listening To Papa?" And I'll Say: "nothing Son, You're Not Ready."
Too Many Individuals Are Like Shakespeare's Definition Of "echo,"--babbling Gossips Of The Air.
Laughter Appears To Stand In Need Of An Echo, Listen To It Carefully: It Is Not An Articulate, Clear, Well-defined Sound; It Is Something Which Would Fain Be Prolonged By Reverberating From One To Another, Something Beginning With A Crash, To Continue In Successive Rumblings, Like Thunder In A Mountain.
Occasionally I Sense An Insane Wail Deep Down In The Pit, The Echo Alone Reaching Me, Striking Without Warning, A Child Weeping Uninhibitedly, Imprisoned Forever.
We Rejoice In God Since He Has Taught Us That Every Thing Which Is True In Us, Is But A Faint Expression Of What Is In Him. And Thus All Our Joys Become To Us The Echo Of Higher Joys, And Our Very Life Is As A Dream Of That Nobler Life, To Which We Shall Awaken When We Die.
