Hoarse Voice Quotes

Because..." he used to cradle his daughter in his arms every morning and often they would exchange soft nuances "...if you can dream it, if you can see it in your visions at night, if you can feel it in your soul, it's yours! And it never really belonged to anyone else, in the first place! It was always yours!" Viera returned her scroll to the drawer and closed it, she kissed the compass around her neck and climbed into her bed under the warm quilts, the candle flame crackled and the memories of her father's arms around her embraced her there in bed and his deep, hoarse voice resounded in her ears; "... and if you chance upon a treasure that is yours and it happens to be in the possession of someone else, it's not very wrong to take what is yours, to take what you dreamed, what you saw in your visions at night, what you felt visit you in your spirit! Sure, it's not lawful, but aye aye my little one, listen to me when I tell you that the best things in life are not under the laws of any sort! For which law created love? Which law created courage? The best things, the real things, are the things that are not measured by any man's laws! Fear is the only thing that any law has ever created! And what kind of pirates would we all be if we were afraid of any of our fears, even a little! ~ C. JoyBell C.

I love you even more now, you know," he said in that sleep-hoarse voice I loved so much.
I turned my head to smile up at him.
"More now than when?"
"More than when I first told you. More than yesterday. More than a minute ago when I woke up to find you daydreaming with that goofy smile on your face. ~ Carter Quinn

But just then, as if to avoid a certain awkwardness, Seaman began to talk not about Newell but about Newell's mother, Anne Jordan Newell. He described her appearance (pleasing), her work (she had a job at a factory that made irrigation systems), her faith (she went to church every Sunday), her industriousness (she kept the house as neat as a pin), her kindness (she always had a smile for everyone), her common sense (she gave good advice, wise advice, without forcing it on anyone). A mother is a precious thing, concluded Seaman. Marius and I founded the Panthers. We worked whatever jobs we could get and we bought shotguns and handguns for the people's self-defense. But a mother is worth more than the Black Revolution. That I can promise you. In my long and eventful life, I've seen many things. I was in Algeria and I was in China and in several prisons in the United States. A mother is a precious thing. This I say here and I'll say anywhere, anytime, he said in a hoarse voice. ~ Roberto Bolano

When you stand out there," John continues in a hoarse voice, "keep your chin up, all right? Don't let them get to you."
"I won't."
"Make them work for it. Punch someone if you have to." John gives me a sad, crooked smile. "You're a scary kid. So scare them. Okay? All the way until the end."
For the first time in a long time, I feel like a little brother. I have to swallow hard to keep my eyes dry. "Okay," I whisper. ~ Marie Lu

So hot and tight. You're going to be a screamer. You're already fighting to keep quiet, and I've barely started. His low, hoarse voice sent shivers down her back. ~ Julia Devlin

Hello again, violinist,' he said in a hoarse voice. 'Fancy meeting you here. ~ Regina Doman

he leaned down and pressed his face to my belly.

"You're having my baby," he announced against my skin.

I felt my eyes well up and tears drip down my face. finally. He'd finally said it.

"Sure am," I replied, my hoarse voice belying the nonchalance of my words.

"I'm going to do my best, okay?" he said nervously. "I promise. I'll be a good dad to him."

"You're already a good dad."

But to this baby," he replied, lifting his face and pressing his hand to my belly. "I'm going to be a good dad to this baby."

"I never doubted that."

"I did," he confessed, his head rising to shamefully meet my eyes.

The truth of his words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I finally understood why he'd ignored the proof of our child for so long.

I nodded once, and he nodded back, as if, without words, we were making a pact then and there to take care of this baby we hadn't planned for or wanted. ~ Nicole Jacquelyn

Drink [the shot of tequila], Mia." He repeated, quietly, using my name this time. He leaned in close to me so that I could feel the heat of his body. "Believe me," His eyes locked on mine and in a hoarse voice he whispered, "you're going to want to be drunk for what I'm going to do to you tonight. ~ Donya Petrock

Drink it," I told her. "It's good for what ails you. Caffeine and sugar. I don't drink it, so I ran over to your house and stole the expensive stuff in your freezer. It shouldn't be that bad. Samuel told me to make it strong and pour sugar into it. It should taste sort of like bitter syrup."
She gave me a smile smile, then a bigger one, and plugged her nose before she drank it down in one gulp. "Next time," she said in a hoarse voice, "I make the coffee. ~ Patricia Briggs

Many contemporaries of Proust's insisted that he wrote the way he spoke, although when Du côté de chez Swann appeared in print, they were startled by what they saw as the severity of the page. Where were the pauses, the inflections? There were not enough empty spaces, not enough punctuation marks. To them, the sentences seemed longer when read on the page than they did when they were spoken, in his extraordinary hoarse voice: his voice punctuated them. One friend, though surely exaggerating, reported that Proust would arrive late in the evening, wake him up, begin talking, and deliver one long sentence that did not come to an end until the middle of the night. The sentence would be full of asides, parentheses, illuminations, reconsiderations, revisions, addenda, corrections, augmentations, digressions, qualifications, erasures, deletions, and marginal notes. ~ Christopher Prendergast

Poetry had far better imply things than preach them directly ... in the open pulpit her voice grows hoarse and fails. ~ F.L. Lucas

You missed a fine opportunity there."

Her heart raced as she whirled around. The hoarse voice was William's. He stood behind her, somewhat worse the wear for drink. He was pale in the moonlight, his hair a dark halo, hard eyes glittering with some inner fire.

"What do you want, William?"

"I want you. ~ Judith James

Would it be alright if I ripped your clothes?" I breathed out, obviously not thinking about what I was saying or caring in the least. "Cameras," was all he replied. "What?" "There are cameras in the garage," he explained in a deep, hoarse voice. I looked up and saw the big black glob pointed right at us and I sighed. Good Lord, two seconds longer and I would have been on YouTube under the heading, "Author does research in a parking garage. ~ C.P. Smith

When there were none but these two left in the hall, Wang the Tiger leaned forward out of his carven seat and he said in a hard, hoarse voice, "Woman, you are free. Choose where you will go and I will send someone to take you there."
And she answered simply, with all the boldness gone out of her, except that she could look at him in the eyes while she said it, "I have chosen already. I am your bondswoman. ~ Pearl S. Buck

In all you do, speak up for the human rights of others. Become the voice for those who face oppression and can't speak for themselves. Each time you do ... you help humanity take steps to a brighter, peaceful world. ~ Timothy Pina

My grandfather often felt frustrated or baffled by my grandmother's illness, but when it came to the origins of the Skinless Horse he thought he understood. The Skinless Horse was a creature sworn to pursue my grandmother no matter where she went on the face of the globe, whispering to her in the foulest terms of her crimes and the blackness of her soul. There was a voice like that in everyone's head, he figured; in my grandmother's case it was just a matter of degree. You could almost see the Skinless Horse as a clever adapation, a strategy for survival evolved by a proven survivor. If you kept the voice inside your head, the way most people did, there could really be only one way to silence it. He admired the defiance, the refusal to surrender, involuntary but implicit in the act of moving that reproachful whisperer to a shadowy corner of a room, an iron furnace in a cellar, the branches of a grand old tree. ~ Michael Chabon

Each of us has a tongue and a voice. These instruments of speech can be used destructively or employed constructively. ~ Billy Graham

I love doing voice-over. It's one of my favorite things. ~ Mae Whitman

A man must not stop listening any more than praying when he rises from his knees. No one questions the need of times of formal address to God, but few admit in any practical way the need of quiet waiting upon God, gazing into His face, feeling for His hand, listening for His voice. ~ Charles Brent

His voice was handsome and broken, like a cobblestone street. ~ Jonathan Safran Foer

I try to beat back the producers and engineers so they - there's not an excess of stuff used to squeeze my voice to make it artificial. There's a person in there, and people will listen; if they hear another person speak to them, they'll listen because it's lonely out here. ~ Iggy Pop

May you live to be 100 and may the last voice you hear be mine. ~ Frank Sinatra

He had laid his head back until his scalp had contacted his spine, that far back, and opened his throat, and a sound rose in the auditorium like a wind coming from all four directions, low and terrifying, rumbling up from the ground beneath the floor, and it gathered into a roar that sucked at the hearing itself, and coalesced into a voice that penetrated into the sinuses, and finally into the very minds of those hearing it, taking itself higher and higher, more and more awful and beautiful, the originating ideal of all such sounds ever made, of the foghorn and the ship's horn, the locomotive's lonesome whistle, of opera singing and the music of flutes and the continuous moaning of bagpipes. And suddenly it all went black. And the time was gone forever. ~ Denis Johnson

You're both mother fuckers. She was half asleep. Her voice was matter-of-fact as if referring to actual incest. ~ William S. Burroughs

I think if you're lucky enough to find a voice in whatever you do, that voice will come sneaking out no matter what. ~ Nora Ephron

She [Anita] turns back to Raffe, her face melting into a radiant smile. She puts her hand on his arm as he's about to take off his pants.
And that's all the excuse I need.
I grab the sudsy shirt out of the gray water and throw it at her.
It makes a plop noise when it lands on her face, wrapping around her hair. Her perfect hair clumps into a stringy mass, and her mascara smears as the cloth slides wetly down her blouse. She emits a high-pitched squeal that turns every head within earshot.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I say in a sugary voice. "Did you not like that? I thought that's what you wanted. I mean, why else would you be putting your paws on my man? ~ Susan Ee

Do you practice the laugh, or is it a natural talent? Naw, I'm betting you practice."
Jean-Claude's face twisted. I couldn't decide if he was trying not to laugh, or not to frown. Maybe both. I affected some people that way.
The laughter seeped out of her face, very human, until only her eyes sparkled. There was nothing funny about the look in those twinkling eyes. It was the sort of look a cat gives a small bird.
Her voice lifted at the end of each word, a Shirley Temple affectation. "You are either very brave, or very stupid."
"You really need at least one dimple to go with the laugh."
Jean-Claude said softly, "I'm betting on stupid. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

NPR editors and journalists found themselves caught in a game of trying to please a leadership team who did not want to hear stories on the air about conservatives, the poor, or anyone who didn't fit their profitable design of NPR as the official voice of college-educated, white, liberal-leaning, upper-income America. ~ Juan Williams

From my personal taste, it needed more of a visual style. It's so hard when you're adapting something that's so visually scrumptious like Mike Oeming's drawings. They're so unique to comics, but they're a voice. ~ Brian Michael Bendis

War is a thing of fearful and curious anomalies ... It has shown that government by men only is not an appeal to reason, but an appeal to arms; that on women, without a voice to protest, must fall the burden. It is easier to die than to send a son to death. ~ Mary Roberts Rinehart

Homer and Shakespeare and Milton and Marvell and Wordsworth are but the rustling of leaves and crackling of twigs in the forest, and there is not yet the sound of any bird. The Muse has never lifted up her voice to sing. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Nothing in this world takes over your blood like a murder case, nothing demands you, mind and body, with such a huge and blazing and irresistible voice. ~ Tana French

In fact she knew perfectly well (Norman again), but to her everybody's name was immaterial, as indeed was everything else, their clothes, their voice, their class. She was a genuine democrat, perhaps the only one in the country. ~ Alan Bennett

You don't have to be just the sex kitten. You can be a sexy, feminine woman, but also have a strong voice and be a warrior, at the same time. ~ Katheryn Winnick

She felt sad, but she hadn't cried all day. She thought that crying would actually be a good thing right now. It seemed normal to react. Whoever Martin had been, he had probably been a normal person. He was probably having a normal reaction right now, and she had caused it. She felt bad for confusing him. She thought it might be fair to cry for him. But it wasn't until she thought of the mother cows in the pasture the day after the weaning, wandering around singly in the naked sunshine, still trying to call out in their hoarse, broken voices for the young ones that were still missing, that she was finally able to make herself cry - a little bit for all of the calves, but mostly for herself. ~ Alexandra Kleeman

I think Hannah had two brothers. Yes, I'm sure she did. Theo and, and--this boy."
I shook my head. "If he's Hannah's brother, why isn't he in any of the other pictures?"
Aunt Blythe didn't answer right away. In the silence, rain pattered against the windows and dripped through holes in the roof. The wind crept in through cracks and stirred the folds of a long white dress hanging from the rafters.
Finally, my aunt raised her eyes from the photograph. "I think his name was Andrew. Isn't that strange? You share a face and a name with a boy who died years before you were born."
My throat tightened. "He died? Andrew died?"
Aunt Blythe looked at me. "Oh, dear," she said, "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"I'm not scared!" My voice came out as high and squeaky as a girl's. Furious at myself for being such a baby, I leapt to my feet and headed for the stairs.
"Slow down, Drew," my aunt called. "You'll go through the floor!"
Before the words were out of her mouth, a board split under my weight, and I fell flat on my face.
In seconds my aunt was beside me. "Are you all right?" she asked. "Did you hurt yourself?"
"I'm fine." Too embarrassed to meet her eyes, I peered into the hole I'd made. ~ Mary Downing Hahn

It was real," she said, her voice thick. "Wasn't it?" He looked up at her. "What was?" "Us," she said. "Last summer." "Yeah," he said, stepping back again. "It was. ~ Jennifer E. Smith

In one motion, Connor shrugged off his jacket, flung it aside, and went to her. "Where's the bedroom?" he asked in a heated voice.

She tipped her head toward the rear of the apartment. "Back there."

"Too far. I'm not sure I can last." He kissed her, a blatantly carnal kiss that reawakened all their earlier urgency, brought it screaming back to life.

"There's a couch in the living room," Julia managed, pointing to their left and shivering as Connor began unbuttoning her blouse. "That's a lot closer."

His lips burned a path from her collarbone to her throat. "Which is bigger, the couch or the bed?"

"The bed."

"Then I'll last." Connor was pulling her down the hall. "Barely. ~ Andrea Kane

Black as
the centre of an eye, the centre, a blackness
that sucks at light. I love your vigilance
Night, first mother of songs, give me the voice to sing of you
in those fingers lies the bridle of the four winds.
Crying out, offering words of homage to you, I am
only a shell where the ocean is still sounding.
But I have looked too long into human eyes.
Reduce me now to ashes
Night, like a black sun. ~ Marina Tsvetaeva

As we search as a nation for constructive ways to challenge racism and white supremacy, it is absolutely essential that progressive female voices gain a hearing. ~ Bell Hooks

Otter says nothing and as I turn to look at him, he's watching me, that gold-green shining with that regard that always leaves me breathless. I don't know what he's thinking right now. I don't think I want to know.
Are you sure? the voice in my head asks. Are you absolutely sure you don't want to know?] ~ T.J. Klune

At 82, Nelson (who wrote the song "On the Road Again," among a thousand or more others) is the elder statesman of country music, a steadying and powerful voice in the industry and on environmental issues, and he's still on the road much of the year. The music keeps calling. ~ Willie Nelson

Every generation has someone who steps outside the norm and offers a voice for the unspeakable attitudes of that time. I represent everything that's supposed to be wrong, everything that's forbidden. ~ Sam Kinison

What is happening here?" Her voice is unsteady as she says a line that's not in the script.
"You tell me," I say, and I'm not even sure where my own voice is coming from.
Then she turns around, uncrosses her legs, and mirrors me, kneeling. "You wrote that scene for me, didn't you?"
I nod. My throat is dry. I can barely speak.
"That day you saw me with Shelby outside the theater, right?"
"Yes." I swallow. I'm an open book now.
"Did you write it because it makes the show better? Or did you write it for me? ~ Lauren Blakely

He looked at the mud. "If I pull you free, will you promise to bed me for my pains?"

"Here's what I'll promise, Logan MacKenzie. If you don't get me free, I will come back from the grave and haunt you. Relentlessly."

"For a timid English bluestocking, you can be quite fierce when you choose to be. I rather like it."

She hugged herself to keep her hands out of the creeping mud. "Logan, please. I be you, stop teasing and get me out of this. I'm cold. And I'm frightened."

"Look at me."
She looked at him.
His gaze held hers, blue and unwavering.

All teasing went out his voice. "I'm not leaving. Ten years in the British Army, and I've never left a man behind. I'm not leaving you. I'll have you out of this. Understand? ~ Tessa Dare

The masters of life know the way, for they listen to the voice within them, the voice of wisdom and simplicity, the voice that reasons beyond cleverness and knows beyond knowledge. ~ Benjamin Hoff

Gabriel?" I said.
"Yeah?" His voice was breathless.
"Kiss me. ~ Kim Harrington

WHAT I MEAN BY RUIN IS…

When there's only condiments left in the fridge
and you join a free online dating service
so men will buy you dinner.

When you've shucked the night with the dull blade
of indecision and gulped down everything,
even the pearls.
When some old, left-handed love has left
your guitar strung backwards
and you can't find any songs
for rain in its frets.

When you wake up next to the body
of your past and it looks ready
to wrinkle and bald.

When the last burn of summer is peeling
from your breasts and there's nothing to husk
the pale, raw of new flesh.

When the woman who wears her hair
in the old way quits mumbling about Jesus
on the street corner and takes her salvation
pamphlets to a pauper's grave.

When you're too ugly to pray,
but pray
and the only voice
on the drunk subway wails
good grief. ~ Stevie Edwards

I am just as deaf as I am blind. The problems of deafness are deeper and more complex, if not more important than those of blindness. Deafness is a much worse misfortune. For it means the loss of the most vital stimulus- the sound of the voice that brings language, sets thoughts astir, and keeps us in the intellectual company of man. ~ Helen Keller

We must face the bitter fact that we have forsaken our great dream of a life of, for, and by the people; that the burning passions and ideals of the American dream lie congealed by cold cynicism. Great parts of the masses of our people no longer believe that they have a voice or a hand in shaping the destiny of this nation. They have not forsaken democracy because of any desire or positive action of their own; they have been driven down into the depths of a great despair born of frustration, hopelessness, and apathy. A democracy lacking in popular participation dies of paralysis. ~ Saul Alinsky

Have you ever experienced spring...from the wrong side?" she slowly asked. "I mean...have you ever felt how malicious spring can be toward someone in pain? In the morning, early, early in the morning, birds start singing. Just a single one at first, while it's still night. You can hear it celebrating out there; the night is mother-of-pearl and blood. And the silence whispers, it whispers and buzzes of love and happiness; only it's not for you. There's sparkle and whistle in a bird's voice, but also crying. It is so beautiful and it feels like a burning scorn to your loneliness. Everything beautiful is sometimes horrible. Spring has almost always been horrible for me. As a rule I can only stand it when it rains. I like fall the best. There's something cool and soothing about it. Fall is the best time for the lonely. ~ Torborg Nedreaas

May I see you again?" he asked. There was an endearing nervousness in his voice.
I smiled. "Sure."
"Tomorrow?" he asked.
"Patience, grasshopper," I counseled. "You don't want to seem overeager.
"Right, that's why I said tomorrow," he said. "I want to see you again tonight. But I'm willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow." I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious," he said.
"You don't even know me," I said. I grabbed the book from the center console. "How about I call you when I finish this?"
"But you don't even have my phone number," he said.
"I strongly suspect you wrote it in this book."
He broke out into that goofy smile. "And you say we don't know each other. ~ John Green

She looked down at him, smiling with exasperated amusement. *Stubborn, snarly male.*

*Stubbornness is a much-maligned quality,* he panted as he climbed toward her. Her silvery, velvet-coated laugh filled the land. Then he finally got a good look at her. He sank to his knees. *I owe you a debt, Lady.*

She shook her head. *The debt is mine, not yours.*

*I failed you,* he said bitterly, looking at her wasted body.

*No, Daemon,* Jaenelle replied softly. *I failed you. You asked me to heal the crystal chalice and return to the living world. And I did. But I don't think I ever forgave my body for being the instrument that was used to try to destroy me, and I became its cruelest torturer. For that I'm sorry because you treasured that part of me.*

*No, I treasured all of you. I love you, Witch. I always will. You're everything I'd dreamed you would be.*

She smiled at him. *And I - * She shuddered, pressed her hand against her chest. *Come. There's little time left.* She fled through the rocks, out of sight before he could move. He hurried after her, following the glittering trail, gasping as he felt a crushing weight descend on him. *Daemon.* Her voice came back to him, faint and pain-filled. *If the body is going to survive, I can't stay any longer.* He fought against the weight.

*Jaenelle!*

*You have to take this in slow stages. Rest there now. Rest, Daemon. I'll mark the trail for you. ~ Anne Bishop

Oh, here comes Mel Blanc, the voice of Bugs Bunny and Jimmy Smits! ~ Roger Ebert

Hey," Alex said, his voice thoughtful. "If we made those nukes stop listening, that means we can't shut 'em down, right? Wonder where Fred's going to drop those." "Hell if I know," Amos said. "Just disarmed Earth, though. That's gotta be fucking embarrassing." "Unintended consequences," Naomi sighed. "Always with the unintended consequences. ~ James S.A. Corey

Head and heart must some day speak again with one voice, our hopes and beliefs must be consistent with our knowledge. ~ Anonymous

As a young girl, I dreamed of having a voice in fashion. ~ Ann Demeulemeester

This guy is an epic douche. Kick his shiny ass, Atticus, Oberon said.
I compartmentalized his comment and resolved to enjoy it later. I glared at this would be usurper and said in my most authoritative voice, "Aenghus Og, you have broken Druidic law by killing the land around us and opening a gate to hell, unleashing demons on this plane. I judge you guilty and sentence you to death."
Amen, Atticus! Testify! ~ Kevin Hearne

I'm no one's pet, and I intend to be an independent voice in the U.S. Senate. ~ Chris Coons

When I tried to remember her voice saying, 'Don't worry,' I found I had no memory for sounds. I couldn't imitate her voice. I couldn't even caricature it: when I tried to remember it, it was anonymous - just any woman's voice.
The process of forgetting her had set in. We should keep gramophone records as we keep photographs. ~ Graham Greene

Wars have no memory, and nobody has the courage to understand them until there are no voices left to tell what happened, ~ Carlos Ruiz Zafon

Jacey," I continue, trying to make my voice steady, "I don't know what I can offer you. But I'll try to offer you something more than… this. I know you deserve more. Trust me, I know that. You're different from everyone I know. You're a breath of fresh air, and I just want to keep breathing you in. That's a big thing for me, you have no idea. ~ Courtney Cole