“Poverty made a sound like a wet cough in the shadows of the room.”

“Music is feeling, then not sound;And thus it is what i feel,Here in this room, desiring you,Thinking of your blue- shadowed silk Is music. It is like the strainWaked in elders...”

“There was a sound in the background like a distant sheep coughing gently on a mountainside. Jeeves sailing into action.”

“Occasionally, someone coughed with a dry rasp that sounded like a mummy tapped on the head with a pair of tongs.”

“They will be like shadows, they will be like wraiths, gray members of a congregation of nightmare; hark! his long wavering howl . . . an aria of fear made audible. The wolfsong is the sound of the rending you will suffer, in itself a murdering.”

“My shoes made an odd, clacking sound on the cobblestones of the courtyard, no matter how quietly I placed my feet. It was like being followed by the audible manifestation of my own shadow.”