CommonVoice example sentences

The thing is, nobody knew what was happening.

They're silly, their buckets are over there behind mine.

The great rulers found the squeaky grate was grating on their nerves.

It was sunny a minute ago! where did the clouds come from?

I could go on for days about the delicious wines produced in this part of the world.

The cheese was delicious, especially when accompanied by the delicious, crusty bread.

In Ireland, the butter is always salted, why would anyone want it any other way?

The cheese and wine was complimented with fig jam and green, seedless grapes.

Did you see the chap over there with his arms in the air like he just don't care?

Sometimes I overthink things which leads me to postpone and ultimately never achieve the goal I had in mind.

We were only half a mile form the destination when the engine packed in.

The car slid on the ice and crashed into the wall.

The car tires were old so the tread was worn down and useless.

The puncture didn't slow him down at all.

He kept driving at full speed, totally unfazed by the flap, flap, flap of the burst tyre.

The parking meter attendant looked quizzically at the grinning, bespectacled teenager sitting in a cardboard box.

Something deep beneath the earth shifted, sending vibrations strong enough to register on earthquake detection mechanisms hundreds of miles away.

The man looked up from his book and noticing nothing newsworthy returned his gaze to the page and continued reading.

Fourteen silly looking clowns waltzed together in the park eliciting laughter as they pirouetted.

Their oversized shoes slapped the ground each time they took a step.

Each clown's wig was secured by a tiny bowler hat held by an elastic chin-strap.

The music, while technically a waltz, sounded more like a drunken tuba player falling into the orchestra's percussion section while being hotly pursued by the woodwinds.

One clown stood in the centre of this chaos, a beatific smile on his face and a baton in his hand, conducting the shenanigans that unfolded and threatened to collapse in a heap at any moment.

Doves sprouted, then escaped from various oversized pockets, some trailing handkerchiefs, or bunting.

One short, solitary clown entered the ring honking an oversize horn while waving forlornly to the audience.

The music stopped then, catching the clowns mid-step, they stumbled and fell, and the solitary horn-honker was left standing silently guffawing at the clown carnage around him.

Flowers bloomed, unseen in the depths of the grassy plains,  opening their petals, turning to the sun, feeding numberless insects and dying, never to be witnessed by a human.

The daffodils were like a carpet in the back garden.

John looked out the window of the show-house, happy he had mortgage approval, but worried about the repayments.

The internal door of the house would need to be replaced because they were very ugly.

The window frames were old and rotting, the glass was close to falling out.

The stairs creaked under his weight as he climbed to the darkened upper floor.

The landing was dimly light by a single, bare, low-power light-bulb.

Four doors lead from the landing into two bedrooms, a closet and a small, but functional bathroom.

The biggest bedroom had a small, ornate fireplace on one wall which had seen recent use judging by the ashes crumbling in the grate.

The cornices of the room were mostly intact, but showed signs of damage from damp.

The walls of the second bedroom were covered in a wallpaper with a livid design that seemed to swirl and pulsate unnervingly.

The closet door stuck a little as he pulled it open revealing a bare wooden floor covered on one side by a stack of old shoes boxes.

The topmost shoe box held only receipts from shopping trips a decade ago.

The penultimate shoe box contained something much more interesting - money.

The floorboards looked loose.

Finally, he lifted one of the boards and after setting it aside carefully, looked into the space beneath the floor.
The attic was dark and smelt of old dust.

He was deflated when he found the attic was completely empty.

Letting himself out of the house he breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned from the door and walked slowly toward the gate, still holding the keys in his hand.

He paused, looked back at the house, but then pocketed the keys, opened the gate and strode down the path quickly, leaving the house, and his thoughts, behind him.

The blackbird watched all this from the tree twisting its head left and right, blinking and testing its wings, before finally cawing loudly and taking to the air.

A leaf, dislodged by the bird's sudden departure, twisted slowly as it fell to the ground.

"Leaves fall", he thought "even when it is not yet autumn"

The food was still warm on the plate when he returned from checking the windows and doors.

He didn't feel so hungry though, not since he had heard the drawn-out scraping noise from upstairs.

Imagined monstrosities capered and gibbered in his imagination as he tried not to look behind him.

He could have sworn the shadow moved but he kept his eyes fixed on the table, his grip tightening on his cutlery.

He jumped up and turned quickly to face the imagined terror screaming "Get back!"

There was nothing behind him except for his bookcase which seemed to be missing a single, important book.

She read the book quickly, savouring the characters that came vividly to mind from the well-crafted prose.

Can you imagine something more beautiful than a plastic bag swooping, and floating in a breeze?