Quotes About Voice

She has form, he said to himself, as he walked away through the grove - that cannot be denied to her; but has she got feeling? I am afraid not. In fact, she is like most artists; she is all style, without any sincerity. She would not sacrifice herself for others. She thinks merely of music, and everybody knows that arts are selfish. Still, it must be admitted that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. What a pity it is that they do not mean anything, or do any practical good.

Everything falls into the hands of music eventually. The only thing that ever rescued me was listening to a big voice.

Una voz fuerte no puede competir con una voz clara, aunque esta sea un simple murmullo.

In following the Way, the noble-minded treasure three things: a manner free of violence and arrogance, a countenance full of sincerity and trust, a voice free of vulgarity and impropriety.

Lo que eres grita tan fuerte que no oigo lo que me dices»;

You're safe, Elaine, you're safe,' said Charley-is-my-darling, his sly smile very warm and his smooth voice carrying the ring of sincere conviction. For himself, he did not believe a word of it. He thought they were all in danger, but there was no point in terrifying Elaine... He was frightened himself, but he was afraid of fear.

Whatever voice spoke him was no demon but some old shed self that came yet from time to time in the name of sanity. a hand to gentle him back from the rim of his disastrous wrath.

For let it go how it will, he said, God speaks in the least of creatures. The kid thought him to mean birds or things that crawl but the expriest, watching, his head slightly cocked, said: No man is give leave of that voice. The kid spat into the fire and bent to his work. I aint heard no voice, he said. When it stops, said Tobin, you'll know you've heard it all your life. Is that right? Aye.

No man is give leave of that voice. The kid spat into the fire and bent to his work. I aint heard no voice, he said. When it stops, said Tobin, you'll know you've heard it all your life.

I aint heard no voice, he said. When it stops, said Tobin, you'll know you've heard it all your life. Is that right? Aye. The kid turned the leather in his lap. The expriest watched him. At night, said Tobin, when the horses are grazing and the company is asleep, who hears them grazing? Dont nobody hear them if they're asleep. Aye. And if they cease their grazing who is it that wakes? Every man. Aye, said the expriest. Every man.

The soul might be silent but the servant of the soul has always got a voice and it has got one for a reason.

Out of that whirlwind no voice spoke and the pilgrim lying in his broken bones may cry out and in his anguish he may rage, but rage at what? And if the dried and blackened shell of him is found among the sands by travelers to come yet who can discover the engine of his ruin?

Yeah. He aint here to say though, is he? I dont know. Someways I think he'll always have a say.

He had not stopped cursing. Whatever voice spoke him was no demon but some old shed self that came yet from time to time in the name of sanity, a hand to gentle him back from the rim of his disastrous wrath.

Mo could paint pictures in the empty air with his voice alone.

He felt Death reaching out to him. But all of a sudden there was something else, too: words. Words that relieved the pain, cooled his brow, and spoke of love, nothing but love... It was his daughter's voice, and the White Women withdrew their pale hands as if they had burned themselves on her love.

Worte taugen nichts. Ja, manchmal klangen sie wunderbar, aber sie liessen einen im Stich, sobald man sie wirklich brauchte. Nie fand man die richtigen, niemals, aber wo sollte man auch nach ihnen suchen? Das Herz ist stumm wie ein Fish, auch wenn die Zunge sich noch so viel Muehe gibt, ihm eine Stimme zu geben.

My voice had bayou gut them slipping out of their story like a bookmark forgotten by a reader between the pages

Only to be expected!' Elinor's voice almost cracked. Belligerent as a Bull Terrier, she marched up to him.

Una storia cambia continuamente vestito. Una storia cresce e germoglia come un qualcosa di vivo! Quelle che vengono chiuse nei libri, invece? Sì, magari vivono più a lungo, ma prendono vita solo quando i libri vengono aperti. Sono suoni pressati tra i fogli, e solo una voce può dar loro fiato!

Farid callaba. Sus oídos amaban la voz de Lengua de Brujo. Era la voz que lo había sacado de su otra vida mísera, pero amaba más a Dedo Polvoriento, sin saber por qué.

She liked his tears so much that she put out her beautiful finger and let them run over it. Her voice was so low that at first he could not make out what she said. Then he made it out. She was saying that she thought she could get well again if children believed in fairies. J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Oh, er vermisste sein gemasertes Gesicht und seine heisere Stimme. Er vermisste ihn ganz besonders unter all diesen weichhäutigen weißen Gesichtern.

And then her voice could help this story to find a good ending at last.