Quotes About Voices

I think every fiction writer, to a certain extent, is a schizophrenic and able to have two or three or five voices in his or her body. We seek, through our profession, to get those voices onto paper.

It's the voices in your head that speak doubt and insecurity and fear and anxiety. Like a tape that's jammed on repeat, these destructive messages will drain an extraordinary amount of your energies if you aren't clear and focused and grounded.

It is your responsibility to stop listening to voices that hinder your ongoing growth and maturity.

How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark Autumn evenings come, And where, my soul, is thy pleasant hue? With the music of all thy voices, dumb In life's November too! I shall be found by the fire, suppose, O'er a great wise book as beseemeth age, While the shutters flap as the cross-wind blows, And I turn the page, and I turn the page, Not verse now, only prose!

second voice spoke, young and uncertain. "This is Ilan. Can you hear me?" Their voices had the hollow, faraway quality that came with being on speaker. "I

noisy man is listened to first, and then the quiet man; and since wars are noisy and violent, it may take long for the ability of quiet men to be recognized, or for their voices to be heard above the bellowing of incompetents.

The evening light would concentrate itself into the band of sky over the black jagged peaks of the Hellespontus, brilliant pinks and silvers and violets shading up into dark indigos and bruised blacks, and their voices would soften in that last part of the twilight Michel called entre chien et loup.

Every moment, as it has passed, has changed something in them; Time has transformed the faces, voices, laughter. For Time is a murderer, and every moment is a little death,(...)

And then here I am back down, right beside the stone, my body rumpled, happy, crumpled as if it had just made love. Sun. Voices from above. I-330's smile.

How alike were the voices of pleasure and death!

If subaltern voices are to be made visible in a fashion that parts ways with the cultural Left's humanist playbook of empathetic imaginings, a new revolutionary grammar is needed. Indeed such a grammar requires constructing new bonds of solidarity, based not on common enemies or goals but, as just underlined, loss and peril.

I fell in love with the short story form and kept on going. I found that even 3,000 words is surprisingly spacious and that writing short allowed me to experimented with different subgenres and voices without a huge investment of time and energy or too much of a stake in the outcome for any particular story.

British sociologist David Hirsh rightly observes that "much of the important communication between Palestinians and Israelis has been conducted via academic engagement." If one wants to resolve this political situation, efforts should be made to "facilitate communication, not exclusion, [to] listen, not close down voices.

We hear only our own voices, still echoes returning to our emptiness.

The history of knowledge is a great fugue in which the voices of the nations one after the other emerge.

On an animated movie, I'm learning as I go. There are so many details in animation. Doing the voices was the easy-part. Doing live-action, you have to be on the set, every day.

The voices of the women had the especially sweet and rapturous charm of a gentle stroke passing over the surface of one's skin.

Thousands of musical voices, like rain on water, beckoned.

The house beneath slumbered in unbroken stillness. The silence filled his ears with a hum, which grew into a sound of whispering voices. Slowly and irresistibly these voices mastered him and increased the feeling of anxiety which had almost choked him several times that day. What could be the cause of such mental anguish? What could be the strange trouble which had slowly grown within him and had now become so unbearable? He had not fallen into sin.

I could go crazy on a night like tonight When summer's beginning to give up her fight And every thought's a possiblility And the voices are heard but nothing is seen Why do you spend this time with me Maybe an equal mystery

This was the signal for everyone to begin talking at the tops of their voices.

Silence is the bluntest of blunt instruments. It seems to hammer you into the ground. It drives you deeper and deeper into your own guilt. It makes the voices inside your head accuse you more viciously than any outside voices ever could.

We hear voices in solitude, we never hear in the hurry and turmoil of life; we receive counsels and comforts, we get under no other condition.

Literature is, as Salman Rushdie has observed, 'the one place in any society where, within the secrecy of our own heads, we can hear voices talking about everything in every possible way' (Rushdie 1990, 16).