Quotes About Voice

bazen ona bir ?eyler yazars?n, yazar silersin... yazar silersin... o hiçbirini okumam?? olur; ama sen hepsini söylemi? olursun

I see no reason to keep silent about my enjoyment of the sound of my own voice as I work.

Truth is obsessed with conscience, intuition speaks with the voice of conscience.

My ambition is therefore to become the voice and messenger of this change that everyone is constantly talking about.

Socialism is the voice of the workers or employees against the mistreatment of their employers.

The voice of the people must be heard, but we must keep an open eye on the improvement of our economics too.

The word VOTE stands for Voice Of The Elector. Therefore, vote to let your point of view speak out for you.

True democracy means responding to the wishes and will of the people. It has nothing to do with the populists running for office.

Sing it out. Boy, you've got to see what tomorrow brings. Sing it out. Girl, you've got to be what tomorrow needs. For every time that they want to count you out, use your voice every single time you open up your mouth.

We must be constantly aware of our responsibility in the Communion of Saints, without giving our honored predecessors the final say or making them an "alternatvie source," independent of scripture itself. When they speak with one voice, we should listen very carefully. They may be wrong. They sometimes are. But we ignore them at our peril.

It is in human nature to pray. It is appropriate that we lay our words upon the earth. And so: Great Mystery, you who dwell in the endless beyond, you who spoke the first word and made of your breath the mountains and the waters, the trees and the grasses, the man and the woman and the child, hear me in my small voice. I am your thankful creature.

But the voice goes on, calling us, beckoning us, luring us to think that there might be such a thing as justice, as the world being put to rights, even though we find it so elusive.

the reason we have these dreams, the reason we have a sense of a memory of the echo of a voice, is that there is someone speaking to us, whispering in our inner ear—someone who cares very much about this present world and our present selves, and who has made us and the world for a purpose which will indeed involve justice, things being put to rights, ourselves being put to rights, the world being rescued at last.

When we sing, the sound made even by small-scale earthbound creatures such as us rings around the rafters that we cannot otherwise reach.

A naked blade sheathed in velvet, that was Raphael's voice.

Sometimes he hated that voice in his brain, the one that slapped him upside the head anytime he got too stupid. Funny, it happened a lot with Sienna.

Once, he'd used it in song, but the songs in his heart had gone silent long ago, and he knew that one day so would his voice. A man with nothing inside him eventually had nothing to say.

Then she lay silent as he moved his fingers over the strings with a grace that astounded and compelled. When he added his voice, keeping the volume low to avoid disturbing her neighbors, she felt her heart stop beating. A fallen angel might have a voice like that, she thought, hard and pure and with an unashamed sexuality to it that invited the listener into sin.

The owl looked at her again, its eyes endless and beautiful and strange. Under her hands, its warmth was a soft glow, and in her mind spoke the voice that wasn't there. Child of love. Child of grief. Child of courage. Watch for the broken blade. Watch for the mourner. He is your death. A long sigh . . . and the owl spread its wings.

Vasic passed on this package of data," he said, his voice rough. "It apparently originated with Judd, but Vasic's added to it, as did Stefan.

Keeping her silence and stifling her hunger to know this complex, talented man both in and out of bed, she fell asleep to the rhythm of his voice, only to wake to the unadulterated demand of his kiss.

If you only eat unsalted food, fresh food, we believe you make Lasirèn vexed, for salt is the creatures of the sea, and good for the Ginen to eat, but fresh—fresh is the flesh of Lasirèn, and if you eat that, it's pride. You're trying to make yourself as one of the lwas. Makandal never eats salt. He, a living man, giving himself powers like a lwa. That's why he couldn't hear the voice of the lwas.

it is by robbing Sita of her voice that victimhood has been made palatable for women—indeed their highest destiny—through literary manipulation.

For my convalescence, I had to exercise my voice only with vowels. It is a medical rule after a long loss of voice.