Quotes About Voice

Socrates: I'm afraid that it might actually be sacrilegious to stand idly by while morality is being denigrated and not try to assist as long as one has breath in one's body and a voice to protest with.

The man who has no self-respect, on the contrary, will imitate anybody and anything; sounds of nature and cries of animals alike; his whole performance will be imitation of gesture and voice.

May not 'the wolf,' as the proverb says, 'claim a hearing'?

Nevertheless, there's still a dissenting voice, albeit a single one—mine

No, said a voice from the dark doorway. A weary voice, a voice for speaking long after midnight, a voice to be used when all paths are blocked, when castles have fallen to ruins, when morning will not come again.

I don't think it is possible to give tips for finding one's voice; it's one of those things for which there aren't really any tricks or shortcuts, or even any advice that necessarily translates from writer to writer. All I can tell you is to write as much as possible.

In the morning, O Lord, You will hear my voice; in the morning I will order my prayer to You and eagerly watch. Psalm 5:3

We deceive ourselves if we claim to want to hear His voice but neglect the primary channel through which it comes. We must read His Word. We must obey it. We must live it, which means rereading it throughout our lives. —Elisabeth Elliot

Evan heard the creature's voice in his head. Kind of like his own, but different somehow. Deeper. More certain of itself. Stay on the trail. Don't look back, it said. So Evan didn't.

speak hard, steal the air.

What did it mean to a prophet to sing in a God´s own voice? Would that make him a shaman, as in the days described in the Tusk? Or would it make him a god?

Eve said, in a high, squeaky, airless voice, "The ghost! You're the ghost Miranda was talking about! Oh my God, Michael, you're the ghost! You bastard!" He nodded, still concentrating on breathing. Eve got control of her voice and squealed, "That is without a doubt the coolest damn thing I have ever seen in my entire life!

Books cannot fight for themselves.

Si mi voz muriera en tierra, llevadla al nivel del mar y dejadla en la ribera. Llevadla al nivel del mar y nombradla capitana de un blanco bajel de guerra. ¡Oh my v0z condecorada con la insignia marinera: sobre el corazón un ancla y sobre el ancla una estrella y sobre la estrella el viento y sobre el viento la vela!

Si mi voz muriera en tierra llevadla al nivel del mar y dejadla en la ribera. Llevadla al nivel del mar y nombradla capitana de un blanco bajel de guerra. Oh mi voz condecorada con la insignia marinera: sobre el corazón un ancla y sobre el ancla una estrella y sobre la estrella el viento y sobre el viento una vela!

Writing is not the voice's shadow but the tracks of its steps. It is only thanks to writing that we can listen to the ancient Greeks and Egyptians even today, that we can hear their voices as full of life as if they had just spoken. My friend, only writing has the power to move a voice through time, and make it as immortal as the gods.

De las radios de los cafés salían las palabras del presidente, que prometía una lucha encarnizada contra los enemigos de la República. Satlán poseía una voz hermosa y masculina que cautivaba a los árabes. La radio era su caja mágica. Con más de ochenta por ciento de analfabetos, la oposición carecía de la mejor oportunidad. Quien domina la radio tiene al pueblo de su parte.

The truth was in her voice as sure as rain and sunshine are in a green blade of grass.

I'd had much practice turning my mind away from certain memories of my childhood. I could quickly dial her remembered voice from a whisper to a silence.

Still in that remarkable hushed voice, he said, I'm small, I'm young--and I'm so different. You've always respected that difference, and you've always trusted it. Trust me now. There's a reason I am the way I am, and there's a reason I was born to you. There's always a reason. We belong together.

He had the raw, rough voice of one who had marinated his larynx in whiskey and slow-cooked it in years of cigarette smoke.

His voice had sounded as though he lived entirely on mayonnaise and butter but never quite cleared his throat of them;

Libby believes that she hears her mother's voice submerged in the louder shriek

He could make many sounds, but none were words.