Quotes About Voice

I am not your kind," Vos said, his voice thick. "I do not feed off vengeance." Truth was quiet. It did not need to shout or to demand. It simply existed. "I am a Jedi.

Her soft voice nearly was the end of his strength. Just when he was certain there was no way he could love her more, she did something like that. She made him feel as if he was everything to her. He'd never been everything to anyone.

Such a nice body. She nearly dropped her brush. Will you stop! Just the low velvet touch of his voice sent heat curling through her body. It was sinful and unfair to have such a voice. I did not think you would ever speak with me as a lifemate would. I waited long for that impatient comment.

I heard her voice first. She responded to something Joanna Masci said to her. That note in her voice turned the key, unlocking something deep inside of me. I felt it like a terrible wrenching inside. Everything in me reached for her. For that note she left hanging in the air. I heard the music in me answer.

You're so sweet, Gregori, Savannah purred, her voice strong in his mind. I am not sweet, he objected strenuously.

What kind of spell did I put over you?" he asked gently, his voice that pure, mesmerizing, hypnotic cadence she couldn't seem to resist. "How should I know?" she asked petulantly. "For all I know, you studied with Merlin." She regarded him with suspicion. "You didn't, did you?" "Actually, honey, he was my apprentice," he said. She put both hands over her ears

She hadn't expected the intamacy of his voice in her head. It had a smoothness to it that gave way now and then to gravel.

He thought about her laughter. The sunshine. He lived in a dark place. Just listening to the sound of her voice took him out of it.

Her voice brought a sense of peace, of tranquillity, of something beautiful and satisfying. It filled Matt with longing for a home and a family of his own. It filled him with a deep sense of pride and respect for Kate Drake.

Vittorio's breath left his lungs in a long rush of shock. Something tight in his chest loosened. Someplace vulnerable. Someplace guarded and protected. He pressed his hand tightly over the spot, feeling as if that voice had been a key, fitting perfectly into the lock and turning it before he had a chance to react

He remained silent, and the compulsion to look at him grew until she couldn't stand it. Her gaze met his and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Those eyes were every bit as hypnotic as his voice.

Where the fuck is your coat? His voice was pitched low. Soft. It sounded menacing, as if all his anger was directed at her because she didn't have on a coat.

Vittorio had recognized early on he had a gift. His voice could be compelling, or commanding, and those in a room reacted to it. He could calm others down, arouse or infuriate, all with his tone.

The bayou came out in her voice more than it ever had before, and it sounded like an invitation to spend the night floating down a lazy canal together under the starlit night.

His voice. It was beautiful. Low. Soothing, yet the same time, there was absolute command, as if he ruled the world and knew it.

Where was her sharp intellect? She relied on her brain. She could think fast and was good at details. When Vittorio was around, the only details she could remember were how his smile was so beautiful and how his voice was so gentle and yet compelling.

Raven." The voice was warm, sensual, caressing. Calm in the eye of the storm. Black velvet. Beautiful. Soothing. She knew that voice at once. A curious hush fell in the dining room as Mikhail strode in. He had a hard arrogance about him, an air of complete command. He was tall, dark, well muscled, but it was his eyes, burning with energy, with darkness, with a thousand secrets, that drew immediate attention. Those eyes could mesmerize, hypnotize, just like the power in his voice.

Are you in danger? There was the merest quiver in her voice. Gregori is with me. He wasn't altogether certain that didn't fall under the heading of misleading her, but she'd been through enough.

You continually surprise me, Malichai, in a good way. There was genuine surprise in her voice.

Get out," she hissed, but she had no air and it didn't come out very strong. "What the hell, Czar?" Mechanic said. Reaper's voice came from down the hall. "Forgot to tell you, she's a screamer.

Is he all right?" His voice was very soft, but commanding all the same. Mikhail was authoritative no matter the circumstances.

Avoid stock expressions (like the plague, as William Safire used to say) and repetitions. Don't say that as a boy your grandmother used to read to you, unless at that stage of her life she really was a boy, in which case you have probably thrown away a better intro. If something is worth hearing or listening to, it's very probably worth reading. So, this above all: Find your own voice.

The voice of reason is small, but very persistent.

And even if my voice dies before I do, I shall continue to write polemics against religious delusions, at least until it's hello darkness my old friend.