Quotes About Voice

It's very much like opera singers. They do the same thing. The first thing in the morning and the last thing at night, the thing they think about is their voice and how to take care of it.

The silence was pregnant with noise, with muted fury, with questions the father found too disgusting to frame and with answers to which the son was incapable of giving voice.

This time the silence was painful. I heard my voice slowly swallowed by it, and couldn't work out what to do with my hands.

My voice cut into the silence. The words hung there, searing themselves on the little room long after the sound had died away.

I can't delete my brother's voice mail message. I have a little listen to his voice when I feel like I'm going to forget what he sounds like.

How is it you have the right to destroy my life, I wanted to demand of him, but I am not allowed a say in yours?

And all she heard was the scream, the screaming that went on and on, the sound of the end of the word, the worst sound you ever heard, and she realized it was her it was her it was the sound of her own voice.

And all she heard was the scream, the screaming that went on and on, the sound of the end of the world, the worst sound you ever heard, and she realized it was her it was her it was the sound of her own voice.

How is it you have the right to destroy my life but I'm not allowed a say in yours?

What drew me to politics in the first place was the fact that I wanted to have a place to take a stand and use my voice to express what I believed in. But I've no longer got any political aspirations. I feel that as a politician, fifty per cent of people would hate you before you even left the house.

He imagines what would happen if the whole street called his name, joining with the mother's small voice, the whole street lifting the words and the words spreading through this city, taking flight like a flock of birds at dusk, clouding the sky,... the name, pouring down from the sky... across all our misconnected world, a chorus of name-saying, a brief redemptive span of attention.

Or, as Jackson would have said: The people, sir-the people will set things right.

I was a teacher for a long time. I taught at a community college: voice, theory, humanities. And nowadays, music education is a dying thing. Funding is being cut more and more and more.

You can get digital technology that almost is film quality, and go make little films and do everything you can to find a little understanding of your own voice and it will grow - Don't take no for an answer - Take every opportunity you can to do something.

Om han skriker uten at noen hører det - har han da skreket?

The fact that I'm silent doesn't mean I have nothing to say.

The written word has its limits and its challenges, for the primal sound in the whole world is that made by the human voice, and the likeness of this human voice must be rendered in dots and strokes...Yet I never forget that the voice, too, is important...Don't mumble or hesitate. Speak...in a loud voice, clearly, and without fear.

Howard] Cosell spoke in a Brooklyn accent, with vowels that got trapped in the back of his nose and consonants that exploded from his mouth with unexpected force and speed. It was a voice that reminded listeners of a trumpet in the hands of a non-trumpeter.

There is some pretty solid scientific evidence that babies in the womb can learn songs and sounds, one of the most important sounds being mommy's voice.

But take away the violence and you didn't have serenity. What remained were what psychiatrists labeled the negative symptoms of psychosis: apathy, flat mood, deadened voice, blunted movement, impoverished thinking, language stripped of nuance and humor. An existence devoid of surprise and joy.

Children long for this—a voice, a way of being heard—but many sense that there is no one in the world to hear their words, so they are drawn to ways of malice. If they cannot sing, they scream. They are vessels of the spirit but the spirit sometimes is entombed; it can't get out, and so they smash it!

I fished inside my head for something, some way to prove it. And those strange words floated to the surface of my need. In as clear a voice as l could, l looked at Prospero and said, "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.

Death walked everywhere and there was no one who didn't know the sound of the Reaper's voice.

Calming ain't curing, is it, girl?" the woman asked aloud. "Keeping you hushed might keep me out of jail, but sure as the world, calming ain't curing.