Quotes About Voice

handsome couple. "In other words, we clean up well," Kent joked. "Indeed, you do," I said, and was pleased to know my voice had found itself again.

The little girl's voice was thin with pain. "They were so pretty," she said. And then she died.

She had a beautiful voice, slow, rich, and deep, a voice that thoroughly frosted its phrases and laid them out like so many carmel cakes.

When we voice our reality, educate others, and stand up for what we and our family need from a place of compassion, strength, confidence, and peace, the whole outdated, ineffective, intolerant parenting paradigm that we've lived with for decades is going to come tumbling down.

Is it not first through the voice that one becomes animal?

Parkinson's is a wicked illness, slowly diluting his ability to be in the world. His voice is faint, his gait unsteady, but he is, as always, charming, smart, and, most of all, interested in other people.

She looked up out of her voice and saw the angel.…and the entire message had no words. The entire message will be only the beat and direction of time. Yes is Now. The angel who says, "It's time." "Is it time?" she asked. "Does it hurt?" He will have the most beautiful face she has ever seen. "Oh, babe." The angel starts to cry. "You can't imagine," he said.

I knew him, this John Smith. Once at a party he tried to sell me a gun, and later at the same party he made everyone quiet down for a few minutes because I was singing along with the radio, and he liked my voice.

One night Shay heard the quiet murmur of his voice, punctuated by Olivia's giggles. She shuffled across the living room and listened around the corner. He was reading aloud to her, imitating each character's voice. Shay listened to his falsetto, a grin tugging her lips at the incongruity of a cowboy reading The Princess Diaries.

She told him that he had the most beautiful voice she'd ever heard, that it sounded like whiskey and wood smoke.

I wish I could shut up, but I can't, and I won't.

A young man is afraid of his demon and pulls his hand over the demon's mouth sometimes and speaks for him.

For I had come back, and I dreamed once more in the cool air of the Highlands. And the voice of my dream still echoed through ears and heart, repeated with the sound of Brianna's sleeping breath. You are mine, it had said. Mine. And I will not let you go.

Damn you, Sassenach! his voice said, from a very great distance. His voice was choked with passion. Dam you! I swear if ye die on me, I'll kill you!

What a mystery blood was -- how did a tiny gesture, a tome of voice, endure through generations like the harder verities of flesh? He had seen it again and again, watching his nieces and nephews grow, and accepted without thought the ehoes of parent and grandparent that appeared for brief moments. the shadow of a face looking back through the years -- that vanished again into the face that was now.

Will you bloody say something? I demanded at last, in a voice that shook oiliv a little. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He shook his head slowly from side to side. Jesus, he whispered at last.

Kalbin sesi, dudaklardan dökülen herhangi bir yeminden çok daha gürültülüdür.

What a mystery blood was—how did a tiny gesture, a tone of voice, endure through generations like the harder verities of flesh? He had seen it again and again, watching his nieces and nephews grow, and accepted without thought the echoes of parent and grandparent that appeared for brief moments, the shadow of a face looking back through the years—that vanished again into the face that was now.

In that case, maybe we shouldn't be disturbing you," said a soft American voice. "Oh, I forgot," said Claire, half-turning to the girl who had stood out of sight in the corner of the porch. "Roger Wakefield—my daughter, Brianna.

Murtagh was one of those men who always looked a bit startled to find that women had voices

Open your eyes and tell me yourself, Sassenash, said a deep urgent voice somewhere close.

What's that you two were shouting at each other?" He put his hands to his mouth and hooted, "GOOOOOON!" in a deep, echoing voice that made the others laugh. "Have ye never heard a war cry before?" Jamie asked, shaking his head at such ignorance. "Ye shout it in battle, to call your kin and your clan to your side.

Whereas," I chipped in, leaning forward and raising my own voice enough to be heard over the clop and creak of the horses, "if harm comes to them because of some man, the satisfaction of blaming him will be adequate compensation?

No," I said. The grief of the night before had softened, but the weight of it was still there. My voice was low and husky, because my throat was halfway closed, where the hand of sorrow clutched me unawares.