Quotes About Whisper

Avery? she whispered. He gathered her closer, his eyes still closed. Avery? Shh. His voice was low and infinitely sad. Hush. Tomorrow's waiting outside this door. It's crouching there in an ocean of words and uncertainties. But it's not here yet and we are. Lily. Lillian. Love. I'm begging you. Let me love you again. Let me love you all night long. She answered with a kiss.

I love you," she whispered, gazing up into his pale gray eyes. He smiled crookedly, for a moment looking at her with a dazzled air. He had, she realized sadly, no experience hearing those words. He didn't know how to react. "I figured as much." This time, she didn't hit him.

I will do what I promised. He whispered. No matter what. I will not send you into the darkness alone.

The snow whispered down in the stillness and the sparks rose and dimmed and died in the eternal blackness.

Como num daqueles jogos que se jogam nas festas. Diz a palavra ao ouvido do seguinte. Por isso, sejamos parcimoniosos. Aquilo que alteramos nas recordações também em a sua realidade, conhecida ou não.

Did you learn to whisper in a saw mill?

Breath the words and they will come to life; as of words of magic

Her skin smelled of autumn and the wind. Don't Jacob... But it was too late. Clara didn't flinch as he pulled her close. He grabbed her hair, kissed her mouth, and he felt her heart beating as fast as his own. ...Let her go, Jacob. But he kissed her again, and it was his name she whispered, not Will's.

For the hundredth time, she closed her eyes so she could see another room in her mind's eye, one with a curtain full of stars, and a mattress surrounded by books that whispered their stories to her at night. – Pg. 235

How loud small noises sound in a silence.

They forked up in the air for him, like trees branching in the night, and rained down sparks. They roared and whispered with their crackling voices, they had danced when he said the word. The flames here were both tame and mutinous, strange, silent beasts that sometimes bit the hand that fed them. Only occasionally, on cold nights when there was nothing but the flames to stave off his loneliness, did he think he heard them calling to him, but they whispered words he didn't understand.

Meggie fand, dass dieses erste Flüstern bei jedem Buch etwas anders klang, je nachdem, ob sie schon wusste, was es ihr erzählen würde, oder nicht.

We don't exist, We're only mist, And that was just the wind that hissed.

The leaves fly over the window and whisper a word as they pass To the face that leans from the darkness, intent, with two eyes of darkness That watch forever earnestly from behind the window glass.

The Last Invocation At the last, tenderly, From the walls of the powerful, fortress'd house, From the clasp of the knitted locks—from the keep of the well-closed doors, Let me be wafted. Let me glide noiselessly forth; With the key of softness unlock the locks—with a whisper, Set ope the doors, O Soul! Tenderly! be not impatient! (Strong is your hold, O mortal flesh! Strong is your hold, O love.)

sounds as faint as the vanishing remembrance of voices in a dream

It was a copy of James Joyce's Dubliners his brother had been reading. He opened it and began to read at random, articulating the words very carefully in a whisper, paying elaborate attention to the form of each word but none to what he was reading.

Words that soak into your ears are whispered, not yelled.

The stars know everything, So we try to read their minds. As distant as they are, We choose to whisper in their presence.

There are objects you may desire but cannot explain. There are objects that are not nouns, there are actions that are not verbs. There are things we want that exist at the edge of the forest, at the rim of the ocean, just over the hill, just out of sight.

She whispers to you: Let me do the talking. You nod, unsure why you're going along with her, oh yeah, you are probably in love with her already, that's why.

As he looked around the huge ducal bed, he saw everything that meant the world to him. Outside the sky was darkening and the snow was falling. Through misty eyes, Matthew looked up, saw the moon glowing brilliantly and whispered, "thank you." It was simple, but heartfelt. Never had a man been more grateful than that very moment when everything was utter perfection. With his family and his wife pressed up against him.

The sound came again. There was a whistle to it, and a moan. It was almost a hiss, and it could've been a strangled gasp. Above all, it was quiet, and it seemed to have no source. It whispered.

Rain and wind speak more than just water and air— Rain patters hope Wind whispers let go...