| 1. | Just as much whence we come that blare of the cloud-trumpets. - from Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman |
| 2. | Unseen brazen highland laddies blared and drumthumped after the _cortge. - from Ulysses by James Joyce |
| 3. | Through the drifting fog without the gramophone blares over coughs and feetshuffling.. - from Ulysses by James Joyce |