The Voice Of Saruman Quotes

Have we ridden forth to victory, only to stand at last amazed by an old liar with honey on his forked tongue? So would the trapped wolf speak to the hounds, if he could. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Naturally, the common people don't want war ... but after all it is the leaders of a country who determine the policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every country. ~ Hermann Goring

Lachlan frowned as he misjudged the distance and his forehead hit Cormag's head with a bump. He wrapped his arms around his neck to steady himself, two big hands reaching up to hold onto his arms as if to offer extra support. "You," he began, talking quietly into his ear, "are so beautiful," he confessed, resting his heavy skull against Cormag's for a moment.
He meant it as well. Cormag was stunning. He was taller and broader than he was, very much the fine figure of hotness. His dark hair was well kept, but a little messy, he had amazing bone structure; the type that made him look more like a model than a museum manager. A chiselled jaw, nicely defined cheekbones and a rugged quality that
made him so appealing. He had never noticed how handsome a male face could be until those eyes drew him in.
"And so are you," his companion chuckled, "but we discussed this…I've ruined every relationship I've ever had. I get needy, possessive and my baggage gets in the way.
Besides," he lowered his voice to a whisper and brushed his hand over his upper arm, "You're not gay," he protested, reminding him yet again that they were different.
"Nope. Not gay," he agreed with that, nodding his head as he pulled back a little to see him better. "But that doesn't make you any less beautiful. Why is it wrong that I can see how special you are?" he asked, having difficulty understanding why part of his brain
was telling him he was being a drunken idiot and that the man be ~ Elaine White

For the expression of passion, the glances of the eye, the motion of the arms and hands, the attitudes, and, lastly, the tones of the voice, remained there. We complain of the loss of the play of the features, without reflecting, that at such a great distance, its effect would have been altogether lost. ~ August Wilhelm Schlegel

What I like about organizing things that way is that each story gets nearly full reign over its own space, but all of them are hung on a single string - the loosely-reined voice mentioned above. Thus the collection jogs away from suzerainty and past federation toward, I guess, alliance. Or maybe call each story a separate house on a single street? Or it's all a line of dive bars on some wharf front? What the hell, let's call reading the collection a pub crawl, but with words. ~ Roy Kesey

No man is give leave of that voice. The kid spat into the fire and bent to his work. I aint heard no voice, he said. When it stops, said Tobin, you'll know you've heard it all your life. ~ Cormac McCarthy

Children grow rapidly, forget the centuries-long embrace from their parents, which to them lasted but seconds. Children become adults, live far from their parents, live their own houses, learn ways of their own, suffer pain, grow old. Children curse their parents for their wrinkled skin and hoarse voices. Those now old children also want to stop time, but at another time. They want to freeze their own children at the center of time. ~ Alan Lightman

I first started playing in piano bars for three reasons - to make money, to be in the company of my friends - and also to hook up with young girls. I always knew, even before I played in piano bars, about the effect of my voice. ~ Andrea Bocelli

When Mrs. Casnoff saw us, she walked over to us. "Sophie," she said, her voice warmer than I'd ever heard it. "Happy birthday. It's good to see you."
I actually believed he meant it, which was weird. Weirder still was the smile she gave me as she said, "I was just talking with several of the guests about your decision not to go through with the Removal. We're all so pleased."
Great. Nothing better than my superpersonal decision being party chitchat.
"Well,that's probably a first for you," I tried to joke. When she just looked confused, I clarified. "Being pleased with me."
And then she completely freaked me out by laughing. Granted, it was a low, short laugh, but still. ~ Rachel Hawkins

The seat of the Celtic Muse is in the mist of the secret and solitary hill, and her voice in the murmur of the mountain stream. ~ Walter Scott

Walk slowly," said a voice from behind me, and I turned around and felt my heart jump in delight. "Remember, you're on a crutch and she's an old lady."
"You came!" I said.
"I heard you were looking for me. Julian told me."
"I didn't think I'd see you. Not till, you know, till it was my turn."
"I couldn't wait," he said.
"You look exactly the same as you did on that last day. In Central Park."
"Actually, I'm a few pounds lighter," he said. "I've been on a fitness drive."
"Good for you." I stared at him and felt the tears forming in my eyes. "Do you know how much I've missed you?" I asked him. "It's been almost thirty years. I shouldn't have had to spend all that time on my own."
"I know, but it's nearly over. And you haven't done a bad job of it at the same time, given the mess you made of the first thirty. The years apart will feel like nothing compared to what we have before us."
"The music's started," said my mother, clutching me to her.
"I have to go, Bastiaan," I said. "Will I see you later?"
"No. But I'll be there in November when you arrive."
"All right." I took a deep breath. "I love you."
"I love you too," said my mother. "Shall we go?"
I nodded and stepped forward, and slowly we made our way down the aisle, passing the faces of our friends and family, and I delivered her into the arms of a kind man who swore to love her and take care of her for the rest of her life.
And at the end, when the e ~ John Boyne

I favour humans over ideology, but right now the ideologues are winning, and they're creating a stage for constant artificial high dramas, where everyone is either a magnificent hero or a sickening villain. We can lead good, ethical lives, but some bad phraseology in a Tweet can overwhelm it all - even though we know that's not how we should define our fellow humans. What's true about our fellow humans is that we are clever and stupid. We are grey areas.
And so ... when you see an unfair or an ambiguous shaming unfold, speak up on behalf of the shamed person. A babble of opposing voices - that's democracy.
The great thing about social media was how it gave a voice to voiceless people. Let's not turn it into a world where the smartest way to survive is to go back to being voiceless. ~ Jon Ronson

Lo! I am Beauty's constant thrall, Must ever on her voice await, And follow through the maze of Fate Her luring, strange and mystical. ~ Clark Ashton Smith

So look," he began, leaning over the desk, "I was - "
"Excuse me?" Bethany said. Her voice was loud, even.
Wes turned and looked at her. As he did so, I watched his profile, his arm, that little bit of the heart in
hand peeking out from his sleeve.
"We can help you over here," Bethany said to him. "Did you have a question?"
"Um, sort of," Wes said, glancing at me, a mild smile on his face. "But - "
"I can answer it," Bethany said solidly, so confidently. Amanda, beside her, nodded, seconding this.
"Really, it's fine," he said, then looked at me again. He raised his eyebrows, and I just shrugged. "Okay,
so - "
"She's only a trainee, she won't know the answer," Bethany told him, pushing her chair over closer to
where he was, her voice too loud, bossy even. "It's better if you ask me. Or ask us."
Then, and only then, did I see the tiniest flicker of annoyance on Wes's face. "You know," Wes said, "I
think she'll know it."
"She won't. Ask me."
Now it wasn't just a flicker. Wes looked at me, narrowing his eyes, and for a second I just stared back.
Whatever happens, I thought, happens. For the first time, time at the info desk was flying.
"Okay," he said slowly, moving down the counter. He leaned on his elbows, closer to Bethany, and she
sat up even straighter, readying herself, like someone onJeopardy awaiting the Daily Double. "So here's
my question."
Amanda picked up a pen, as if there ~ Sarah Dessen

What is this film (Mirror) about?It is about a Man. No, not the particular man whose voice we hear from behind the screen, played by Innokentiy Smoktunovsky. It's a film about you, your father, your grandfather, about someone who will live after you and who is still "you". About a Man who lives on the earth, is a part of the earth and the earth is a part of him, about the fact that a man is answerable for his life both to the past and to the future. You have to watch this film simply, and listen to the music of Bach and the poems of Arseniy Tarkovsky; watch it as one watches the stars, or the sea, as one admires a landscape. There is no mathematical logic here, for it cannot explain what man is or what is the meaning of his life. (Sculpting in Time) ~ Andrey Tarkovsky

It was five minutes of screaming, slamming myself against the door, and stamping my feet-and a minute of contemplating the cold, horrible idea that I might have to leave the room to find anyone, and maybe this had been their plan all along, and Oh God, Oh God-before I heard Dr. Elpinoy's nervous voice. ~ Lia Habel

It has been said that a man with an argument is no match for a man with an experience. ~ DC Talk The Voice Of The Martyrs

I'm counting my drawer when Regn comes into the office. I hear her before she enters. I listen for her. The sound of the keypad, the sound of three doors. I saw her pull up on my way in. The anticipation is what I love. The details. The security of knowing she's arrived and will be here for the day. Even if we don't have the leisure of time, we have time. It is the unspoken acknowledgments to self. The constant checking and watching for expressions, inflections in the voice, mannerisms. It is a gradual advance. The more we are restrained, the stronger it grows. It is innocence and age that allows the affection to mature, naturally, as it should. Something inside stirs, the heart itself is attracted, much before the body responds. Knowing Regn looks forward to seeing me as much as I do her makes me happy. ~ Wheston Chancellor Grove

I was interrupted in the heyday of this soliloquy, with a voice which I took to be of a child, which complained "it could not get out." - I look'd up and down the passage, and seeing neither man, woman, or child, I went out without further attention.
In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words repeated twice over; and looking up, I saw it was a starling hung in a little cage. - "I can't get out - I can't get out," said the starling.
I stood looking at the bird: and to every person who came through the passage it ran fluttering to the side towards which they approach'd it, with the same lamentation of its captivity. - "I can't get out," said the starling. - God help thee! said I, but I'll let thee out, cost what it will; so I turn'd about the cage to get to the door; it was twisted and double twisted so fast with wire, there was no getting it open without pulling the cage to pieces. - I took both hands to it.
The bird flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and thrusting his head through the trellis, press'd his breast against it, as if impatient. - I fear, poor creature! said I, I cannot set thee at liberty. - "No," said the starling - "I can't get out - I can't get out," said the starling. ~ Laurence Sterne

The West in the voice of her thundering cannon had said at the door of Japan, Let there be a nation - and there was a Nation. And now that it has come into existence, why do you not feel in your heart of hearts a pure feeling of gladness and say that it is good? Why is it that I saw in an English paper an expression of bitterness at Japan's boasting of her superiority of civilization - the thing that the British, along with other nations, has been carrying on for ages without blushing? Because the idealism of selfishness must keep itself drunk with a continual dose of self-laudation. But the same vices which seem so natural and innocuous in its own life make it surprised and angry at their unpleasantness when seen in other nations. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

In one sense there is no death. The life of a soul on earth lasts beyond departure. You will always feel that life touching yours, that voice speaking to you. He/She lives on in your life and in the lives of all others that knew him/her. ~ Angelo Patri

When I was a junior in college I moved to New York and went to this performance school the Experimental Theatre Wing. We had singing class and again, some of the other students would cry when I was singing, and I really didn't know why. I started to realize that there was something in the tone of my voice that was evocative for them. ~ Antony Hegarty

Jesse stirs again. This time his fingers twitch. As much as I want to see him open his eyes, I can't be here for that. It'll make leaving him too hard. I turn toward the doorway and I'm outside in the main room of the ICU when I hear his weakened voice say, "Winter?"

I hurry back to the waiting area. Hopefully he'll think he dreamed me. Maybe he did. Sometimes I feel like I'm not even real anymore ~ Paula Stokes

I find myself at the extremity of a long beach. How gladly does the spirit leap forth, and suddenly enlarge its sense of being to the full extent of the broad, blue, sunny deep! A greeting and a homage to the Sea! I descend over its margin, and dip my hand into the wave that meets me, and bathe my brow. That far-resounding roar is the Ocean's voice of welcome. His salt breath brings a blessing along with it ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

I used to be really nervous when I sang. Like, when I was a kid starting young, 18 and 19, and my dad really had to sort of push me to start singing in front of people. Ever since I got out there and really started doing it, the only thing I've ever tried to do is just sort of is be myself, you know, never put on a voice. Sing naturally. ~ Dan Auerbach

Let gloominess & noise of others do not mute your inner voice or block light of your joy today. Let your positive thoughts & actions reset your limits, rediscover your trueself, restore your image, regrow your dignity, reclaim your uniqueness & rebuild your life completely ignoring what has happened to you in the past or what will happen to you in future. Let you learn to avoid wasting or abusing your today casually. Let you find beauty, fun, happiness & invite miracles into your day. Let God keep you & your loved ones sweet, safe & sound throughout the day. Stay Meaningful & Amazingly Blessed! ~ Rajesh Goyal

Everything is interim. Everything is a path or a preparation for the next thing, and we never know what the next thing is. Life is like that, of course, twisty and surprising. But life with God is like that exponentially. We can dig in, make plans, write in stone, pretend we're not listening, but the voice of God has a way of being heard. It seeps in like smoke or vapor even when we've barred the door against any last-minute changes, and it moves us to different countries and different emotional territories and different ways of living. It keeps us moving and dancing and watching, and never lets us drop down into a life set on cruise control or a life ruled by remote control. Life with God is a dancing dream, full of flashes and last-minute exits and generally all the things we've said we'll never do. And with the surprises comes great hope. ~ Shauna Niequist

I feel real ownership in this show. I feel very invested in it. I care very much about it. I don't feel any more like a hired hand, you know? It's a strange feeling - I feel personally responsible for how the story goes. What happens. What the weaknesses are. And so in a way, some of the changes gave me an opportunity to have a voice in a different way. ~ Lauren Graham

Saphira waved her tail, the tip whistling loudly. "I'm not asking you to. However, if we attack first, we may gain the advantage."
"Have you gone crazy? They'll ... " Eragon's voice trailed off as he thought about it. "They won't be able to do a thing."
"Exactly," said Saphira. "We can inflict lots of damage from a safe height."
"Let's drop rocks on them! ~ Christopher Paolini

Moses questions God about death

Moses asks God the most basic question, "You create us; then you kill us. "Why"

God says, I understand the purpose within your question; therefore I'll answer.

You want to know the meaning of phenomenal duration, so you can teach others

and help their souls unfold. Anyone who asks this question has some of the answer.

Sow seed corn, Moses, and you will experience the purpose of taking a form. Moses

plants and tends the crop; when the ears have ripened to the shape of their beauty,

he brings out to the field his blade and sharpening stone. The unseen voice comes,

Why did you work to bring the corn to perfection only now to chop it down? "Lord,

it is the winnowing time when we separate the corn grains we use for food from the straw

we use for bedding and fodder. They must be stored in different cribs in the barn."

Where did you learn this threshing-floor work? "You gave me discernment." Do you

not feel that I should have a similar discernment in the planting and harvesting

of forms that I do? So creation has a purpose. God has said, I was

a hidden treasure, and I desired to be known. That desire is part of manifestation. ~ Rumi

Forgetting herself entirely, Pandora let her head loll back against Gabriel's shoulder. "What kind of glue does Ivo use?" she asked languidly.
"Glue?" he echoed after a moment, his mouth close to her temple, grazing softly.
"For his kites."
"Ah." He paused while a wave retreated. "Joiner's glue, I believe."
"That's not strong enough," Pandora said, relaxed and pensive. "He should use chrome glue."
"Where would he find that?" One of his hands caressed her side gently.
"A druggist can make it. One part acid chromate of lime to five parts gelatin."
Amusement filtered through his voice. "Does your mind ever slow down, sweetheart?"
"Not even for sleeping," she said.
Gabriel steadied her against another wave. "How do you know so much about glue?"
The agreeable trance began to fade as Pandora considered how to answer him.
After her long hesitation, Gabriel tilted his head and gave her a questioning sideways glance. "The subject of glue is complicated, I gather."
I'm going to have to tell him at some point, Pandora thought. It might as well be now.
After taking a deep breath, she blurted out, "I design and construct board games. I've researched every possible kind of glue required for manufacturing them. Not just for the construction of the boxes, but the best kind to adhere lithographs to the boards and lids. I've registered a patent for the first game, and soon I intend to apply for two more."
Gabriel absorbed t ~ Lisa Kleypas

I am an urchin, standing in the cold, elbowed aside by the glossy rich visitors in their fur coats and ostentatious jewellery, being fussed into the hotel by pompous-looking doormen.
'No problem. I'd better get home, actually Mr – Gustav. A drink is very tempting, but maybe not such a good idea after all.' I pat my pockets. 'And I'm skint.'
'Pavements not paved with gold yet, eh?' He moves on along the facade of the grand hotel to the corner, and waits. He's staring not back at me but down St James Street. I wage a little war with myself. He's a stranger, remember.
The newspaper headlines, exaggerated by the time they reach the office of Jake's local rag: Country girl from the sticks raped and murdered in London by suave conman.
Even Poppy would be wagging her metaphorical finger at me by now. Blaming herself for not being there, looking out for me. But we're out in public here. Lots of people around us. He's charming. He's incredibly attractive. He's got a lovely deep, well spoken voice. And he's an entrepreneur who must be bloody rich if he owns more than one house. What the hell else am I going to do with myself when everyone else is out having fun?
One thing I won't tell him is that my pockets might be empty, but my bank account is full.
'One drink. Then I must get back.'
He doesn't answer or protest, but with a courtly bow he crooks his elbow and escorts me down St James. We turn right and into the far more subtle splendour of Dukes ~ Primula Bond

Therese was propped up on one elbow. The milk was so hot, she could barely let her lip touch it at first. The tiny sips spread inside her mouth and released a melange of organic flavors. The milk seemed to taste of bone and blood, of warm flesh, or hair, saltless as chalk yet alive as a growing embryo. It was hot through and through to the bottom of the cup, and Therese drank it down, as people in fairy tales drink the potion that will transform, or the unsuspecting warrior the cup that will kill, Then Carol came and took the cup, and Therese was drowsily aware that Carol asked her three questions, on that had to do with happiness, one about the store and one about the future. Therese heard herself answering. She heard her voice rise suddenly in a babble, like a spring that she had no control over, and she realized she was in tears. She was telling Carol all that she feared and disliked, of her loneliness, of Richard, and of gigantic disappointments. ~ Patricia Highsmith

She inhaled sharply as he traced the line of her neck with the warm wetness. "I'm not afraid to bleed for you, Marguerite." His voice was a rough whisper against her ear. "I'll tell The Zone you're thinking it over. Don't disappoint me. Or yourself. ~ Joey W. Hill

Believing this country to be a political and not a religious organisation ... the editor of the NATIONAL CITIZEN will use all her influence of voice and pen against 'Sabbath Laws', the uses of the 'Bible in School', and pre-eminently against an amendment which shall introduce 'God in the Constitution. ~ Matilda Joslyn Gage

Slowly, Cade turned to face her. "Why?" She lifted her hand and saw the blood on her fingertips. "Because you couldn't die for me." He stalked toward her. "I wouldn't have." Well, that seemed harsh. She'd saved his butt. Didn't that count for anything in his mind? His nostrils flared. "Wolves like the scent of blood." So did vampires. He was almost upon her now, and she could see the sharp edge of his canines. "It usually makes us want to attack," he said in that lethal voice of his. Allison barely managed to swallow the lump in her throat as she looked up at him. Don't attack. Down, wolf. Down. ~ Cynthia Eden

I've never wanted someone as fiercely as I want you, Dani-girl."
The tone of his voice is so heartbreaking that my chest clenches.
"I wish it were a different world. One where I wasn't leaving and our future wasn't unknown. If it were, you would have been mine already. ~ Harper Sloan

Laughter produces in the air
a vibration more closely related
to the vibration of God's voice
when He commanded the
universe to come into being
than any other sound. ~ Chris Ernest Nelson

The situation Larch was thinking of was war, the so-called war in Europe; Larch, and many others, feared that the war wouldn't stay there. ('I'm sorry, Homer,' Larch imagined having to tell the boy. 'I don't want you to worry, but you have a bad heart; it just wouldn't stand up to a war.') What Larch meant was that his own heart would never stand up to Homer Wells's going to war.
The love of Wilbur Larch for Homer Wells extended even to his tampering with history, a field wherein he was an admitted amateur, but it was nonetheless a field that he respected and also loved. (In an earlier entry in the file on Homer Wells – an entry that Dr. Larch removed, for it lent an incorrect tone of voice, or at least a tone of voice unusual for history – Dr. Larch had written: 'I love nothing or no one as much as I love Homer Wells. Period. ~ John Irving