Quotes About Whispering

A stream of primal voicesWhispering in the breeze of your heartTo urge you on.

To those of you who seek lost objects of history, I wish you the best of luck. They're out there, and they're whispering.

This is where Melville is perhaps the most profound in his portrait of Ahab as the demagogue and dictator. In the end, even the fiercest of tyrants is done in, not by his own sad, used-up self, but by his enablers, the so-called professionals, who keep whispering in his ear. p.105

When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music. Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?

I pulled her hand farther around my waist. She leaned her head between my shoulder blades, muttering to herself

Summer night-- even the stars are whispering to each other.

But I hardly hear anyone, because Trevor is kissing me and whispering, over and over, "I love you, Chas. I love you, I love you, I love you.

And stop whispering into my hair. You might chip a tooth, I've got so much crap sprayed in there." "I know," he whispered, sending a shiver down her side. "You smell like ethanol. I can feel my brain cells dying.

She lifted her hand again and waved. It seemed to me, in the gloom, that the flowers had moved closer to her, had crowded eagerly about her bed, as though waiting for her to tell them something. A ravaged old queen, lying in state, surrounded by her whispering court of flowers.

The gold and scarlet leaves that littered the countryside in great drifts whispered and chuckled among themselves, or took experimental runs from place to place, rolling like coloured hoops among the trees. It was as if they were practising something, preparing for something, and they would discuss it excitedly in rustly voices as they crowded round the tree trunks.

The rage worked under her cheer. It was always there, whispering to her. But she could control it. She'd controlled it for years. Because she was smart, smarter than all of them.

Grandma lighting candles and keeping them lit, whispering

Her lips were still moving, whispering the same words over and over. "They were all I could carry. They were all I could carry.

Death stands above me, whispering low I know not what into my ear: Of his strange language all I know Is, there is not a word of fear.

Cut Men's throats with whisperings.

Sweet is the whispering music of yonder pine that sings.

He heard an eery, dry whispering whose source and distance he could not at once determine. Sometimes it seemed at his very ear, and then it ebbed away as if sinking into profound subterranean vaults. But the sound, though variable in this manner, never ceased entirely; and it seemed to shape itself into words that the listener almost understood: words that were fraught with the hopeless sorrow of a dead man who had sinned long ago, and had repented his sin through black sepulchral ages.

There's a high that you get when you're writing code. It's cool. It's easy to do. You forget your mom, your dad, everything. You've got the whole country onboard. This is America. You hit the frontier. You can go anywhere. It's about being connected, access, gateways, like a whispering game where if you get one thing wrong you've got to go all the way back to the beginning.

the regional mental asylum. The SS is in charge. They have built a special crematorium. Those who are not wanted are taken up in a kind of police van.People here call it the whispering coach. The relatives receive the urn. Recently one family here received two urns at once. - We now have pure communism. But communism murders more honestly.

And the night becomes Still as a whispering heartbeat.

In other words, what your desires are whispering to you may actually be the key to something bigger than a day at the beach.

As the elms bent to one another, like giants who were whispering secrets, and after a few seconds of such repose fell into a violent flurry, tossing their wild arms about, as if their late confidences were really too wicked for their peace of mind, some weather-beaten, ragged old rooks' nests, burdening their higher branches, swung like wrecks upon a stormy sea.

The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark.

That was where friendships were smelted from unrefined ore into pure metal: two girls staying up past their bedtime, painting one another's nails, trying on one another's clothes, wondering about ghosts, confiding secrets, swapping tokens of undying affection, hours of whispering in the darkness.