The Whispers Of The Fallen Quotes

It is only by choice that our true nature is revealed. ~ J.D. Netto

It's alright to grieve, but you must not allow grief to rule you. ~ J.D. Netto

Like a Uniform December 3 WHAT IF ANYTHING have you and I done to do battle against the great darkness of things? As parents and the children of our own parents, as wives and husbands and friends and lovers, as players of whatever parts we have chosen to play in this world, as wielders of whatever kind of power, as possessors of whatever kind of wealth, what other human selves have we sacrificed something of our own sweet selves to help and heal? "Bear fruit that befits repentance!" thunders the Baptist. "Give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness and put upon us the armor of light," whispers the prayer we pray. Bear fruit. Put on light like a garment, like a uniform. That is the place to stop and also the place to start. It is the place to stop and think - think back, think ahead, think deep. It is the place to start and be. ~ Frederick Buechner

Were the last words that I wrote for you enough to tell you
that in my death the light that shone through my painful darkness
was a blinding vision of your eternal smile?
cold scalpel's steel whispers tear at my very core
as I cling to my memories of you ... ~ Xavier

Every human mind is filled with thousands of thoughts and these thoughts also appear as miniature selves of the human whose mind is being explored. And each of these miniature selves says, whispers or shouts the thought it has in mind. ~ James T Carpenter

A radiant glow enveloped Alaura. Soft eruptions of various shades of effervescent green danced in the air and frolicked in the locks of her dark blonde hair. Whispers of yellows and blues revealed themselves near the skin, kissing the air with each leap. ~ Diane Lynn McGyver

Tradition whispers that in the sky is a bird, blue as the sky itself, which brings to its finders happiness. But everyone cannot see it; for mortal eyes are prone to be blinded by the glitter of wealth, fame, and position, and deceived by the mocking Will-o-Wisp of empty honors. But for the fortunate ones who seek with open eyes and hearts, with the artlessness, simplicity, and faith which are richest in childhood, there is an undying promise; and to them the Blue Bird lives and carols, a rejoicing symbol of Happiness and Contentment unto the end. ~ Venice J. Bloodworth

There were ghosts in the wind, whispers from the snow or the invisible meltwater flowing beneath. ~ Rich Shapero

Trina, I never expected to fall in love again. I thought I got my shot, and I was okay with that, because I had my girls. I didn't realize anything was missing. Then came you."
Ms. Rothschild's hands are covering her mouth. She has tears in her eyes.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Trina." Ms. Rothschild starts choking on her candy, and Daddy leaps up off his knee and starts pounding her on the back. She's coughing like crazy.
From his tree Peter whispers, "Should I go do the Heimlich on her? I know how to do it."
"Peter, my dad's a doctor!" I whisper back. "He's got it."
As her coughing subsides, she stands up straight and wipes her eyes. "Wait. Were you asking me to marry you?"
"I was trying to," Daddy says. "Are you all right?"
"Yes!" She claps her hands to her cheeks.
"Yes, you're all right, or yes, you'll marry me?" Daddy asks her, and he's only half kidding.
"Yes, I'll marry you!" she screams, and Daddy reaches for her, and they kiss.
"This feels private," I whisper to Kitty.
"It's all part of the show," she whispers back.
Daddy hands Ms. Rothschild the ring box. I can't quite make out what he says next, but whatever it was, it makes her double over laughing.
"What's he saying?" Kitty asks me, just as Peter says, "What did he say?"
"I can't hear! Both of you be quiet! You're ruining the video!"
Which is when Ms. Rothschild looks over in our direction.
Shoot.
We all pop ba ~ Jenny Han

You and Merrin's mother-have you really been praying for me to die?" "More or less," Mould said. "To be honest, most of the time when she's calling to God, she's riding my dick." "Do you know why He hasn't struck me down?" Ig asked. "Do you know why God hasn't answered your prayers?" "Why?" "Because there is no God. Your prayers are whispers to an empty room." ..."Bullshit." "It's all a lie. There's never been anyone there. ~ Joe Hill

I stare up at Nick. "You're late."
.... "I had things to take care of," he says, all growly, looking away from me and staring Ian down. They do the whole I'm alpha - No, I'm alpha thing, with the staring and pulling the shoulders back and posturing.
Devyn whispers to Issie, loud enough for us to hear. "They're so sad sometimes."
She whispers back, "I know. ~ Carrie Jones

THE ROBIN
O Robin, sing! for the secret of eternity is in song.
I wish I were as you, free from prisons and chains.
I wish I were as you; a soul flying over the valleys,
Sipping the light as wine is sipped from ethereal cups.
I wish I were asyou, innocent, contented and happy
Ignoring the future and forgetting the past.
I wish I were as you in beauty, grace and elegance
With the wind spreading my wings for adornment by the dew.
I wish I were as you in beauty, a thought floating above the land
Pouring out my songs between the forest and the sky.
O Robin, sing! and disperse my anxiety.
I listen to the voice within your voice
that whispers in my inner ear; ~ Kahlil Gibran

The Malays have many queer notions about tigers and usually only speak of them in whispers, because they think that certain souls of human beings who have departed this life have taken up their abode in these beasts, and in some places, for this reason, they will not kill a tiger unless he commits some specially bad aggression. ~ Isabella Bird

I smile at the thought. And finally, there's a key. "To my heart and soul," he whispers. Tears prick my eyes. I launch myself at him, curling my arms around his neck and settling into his lap. "It's such a thoughtful present. I love it. Thank you," I murmur against his ear. Oh, he smells so good - clean, of fresh linen, body wash, and Christian. Like home, my home. My threatened tears begin to fall. ~ E.L. James

She looks at Sam. 'Close your ears if you don't want to know what I suspect to be the sex of your child,' she says, and he blocks his ears.
'It's Sam's?' Jonesey asks, surprised, just as he gets a message.
'Where have you been, Jonesey?' Bernadette says. 'In La La Land?'
'Contrary to popular belief, I think it has no penis,' Georgie whispers to them while Lucia covers Sam's ears.
Jonesey looks up from his text messaging, shocked. 'Poor little guy. ~ Melina Marchetta

was empty but for her. In the rows behind her sat a roomful of Sam's friends and former business associates, many of whom looked with angry surprise and spoke in barely concealed whispers ~ S.K. Epperson

The essence of the divine being is not power but compassion and love. And it's this love, and this love only, that whispers to me in defiance of the darkness: all will be well, all manner of things will be well. ~ Giles Fraser

Then, as tonight, he had felt lonely, but soon had learnt the bounty of such loneliness. The music had breathed to him its message, to him alone amongst these ordinary folk, whispered its gentle secret. And now the star. Across the shoulders of these people a voice was speaking to him in a tongue that he alone could understand. ~ Antoine De Saint Exupery

Come here
and take off your clothes
and with them
every single worry
you have ever carried.
My fingertips on your back
will be the very last thing
you will feel
before sleeping
and the sound of my smile
will be the alarm clock
to your morning ears.
Come here
and take off your clothes
and with them
the weight of every yesterday
that snuck atop your shoulders
and declared them home.
My whispers will be the soundtrack
to your secret dreams
and my hand
the anchor to the life
you will open your eyes to.
Come here
and take off your clothes. ~ Tyler Knott Gregson

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

Death's life should have listened to the moonly whispers of breathing in the coldest nights ~ Munia Khan

Juliette-Julietter, love, wake up-wake up"
...
Warner's hands cup my face. The warmth of his skin helps calm me somehow, and I finally feel my heart rate begin to slow. "Look at me." he says.
I force myself to meet his eyes, shaking as I catch my breath.
"It's okay," he whispers, still holding my cheeks. "It was just a bad dream. Try closing your mouth," he says, "and breathing through your nose." He nods. "There you go. Easy. You're okay." His voice is so soft, so melodic, so inexplicably tender.
...
"I won't let you go until you are ready," he tells me. "Don't worry take your time. ~ Tahereh Mafi

The air changes. Then that invisible spider crawls up my spine, tickling the hairs behind my neck.

I have come to know this spider these last couple of years. It whispers there's something else in the room, breathing with you, watching you, grinning at you.

I hate that damn spider. ~ Rin Chupeco

I decide that if I ever get to come back here under different, nonstressful circumstances, I will stay at this hotel and drink fruity drinks and lay in the sand until my skin looks like it had a makeout session with the sun. But today, I'm looking for an inconspicuous way into the water.
We head out of the lobby and get waylaid by hula dancers in grass skirts handing out necklaces of flowers. Apparently Toraf doesn't like necklaces of flowers; as one of the women raises it above his head, he slaps her hand away. I show him, as I accept the gift around my neck, that the woman with the coconut boobs was just trying to be his friend. Just like all the women he's come across so far.
"Humans are too weird," he whispers, unconvinced. I wonder what Toraf would think of Disney World.
Our hotel is right on the water, so we pass through the lobby to the back. The beach is lined with lounge chairs and umbrellas and people scantily clad and people who shouldn't be scantily clad. ~ Anna Banks

Cupping her face, I reclaim her lips and gently guide her body next to mine on the bed. Rachel's tank rides up and my fingers explore the satin skin of her belly. There are so many places I long to go, so many places I crave to take her.
"I want to go further," she whispers. When I skim the waistband of her pants, her breathing hitches.
Further. Damn, my entire body responds. I don't miss the way her hand fidgets with the hem of her shirt. Scared I'll spook her, I don't push her too far, but I'm all for reading body language. I place my hand over hers and her smile appears.
"You sure?" I ask. I kiss each and every centimeter of her exposed skin as I move up her tank. I linger over the material of her bra and Rachel fists the sheet with both hands. She's so damn hot I'm about to forget slow and go for fast.
But I ignore those urges and guide the material up and over her head. I don't know what the hell I did to have such a beautiful creature in my bed, but she's here and I'm going to spend tonight worshipping this gift in front of me. ~ Katie McGarry

Too often government responds to the whispers of lobbyists before the cries of the people. ~ Andrew Cuomo

Ravi buys all four of our tickets, which Peter is really impressed by. "Such a classy move," he whispers to me as we sit down. Peter deftly maneuvers it so we're sitting me, Peter, Ravi, Margot, so he can keep talking to him about soccer. Or football, as Ravi says. Margot gives me an amused look over their heads, and I can tell all the unpleasantness from before is forgotten.
After the movie, Peter suggests we go for frozen custards. "Have you ever had frozen custard before?" he asks Ravi.
"Never," Ravi says.
"It's the best, Rav," he says. "They make it homemade."
"Brilliant," Ravi says.
When the boys are in line, Margot says to me, "I think Peter's in love--with my boyfriend," and we both giggle.
We're still laughing when they get back to our table. Peter hands me my pralines and cream. "What's so funny?"
I just shake my head and dip my spoon into the custard. ~ Jenny Han

These were eye-opening years for me. When I'd come back to Warner Brothers after the war, I'd shared the orthodox liberal view that Communists - if there really were any - were liberals who were temporarily off track, and whatever they were, they didn't pose much of a threat to me or anyone. I heard whispers that Moscow wanted to infiltrate the world's most powerful medium of entertainment, but I'd passed them off as irrational and emotional red baiting. Now I knew from firsthand experience how Communists used lies, deceit, violence, or any other tactic that suited them to advance the cause of Soviet expansionism. I knew from the experience of hand-to-hand combat that America faced no more insidious or evil threat than that of Communism. ~ Ronald Reagan

The willow is full plumage and is no help, with its insinuating whispers.
Rendevous, it says. Terraces;
the sibilants run up my spine, a shiver as if in fever. The summer dress rustles against the flesh of my thighs, the grass grows underfoot, at the edges of my eyes there are movements, in the branches; feathers, flittings, grace notes, tree into bird, metamorphosis run wild. Goddesses are possible now and the air suffuses with desire ...
Winter is not so dangerous. I need hardness, cold, rigidity; not this heaviness, as if I'm a melon on a stem, this liquid ripeness. ~ Margaret Atwood

C. S. Lewis introduced the phrase "pain, the megaphone of God." "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains," he said; "it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."3 The word megaphone is apropos, because by its nature pain shouts. When I stub my toe or twist an ankle, pain loudly announces to my brain that something is wrong. Similarly, the existence of suffering on this earth is, I believe, a scream to all of us that something is wrong. It halts us in our tracks and forces us to consider other values. ~ Philip Yancey

True love is a fairy tale, which can be transformed into reality by rewriting each chapter by hearing the whispers of each other's heart, by believing in those whispers and absorbing the aches that lie within. ~ Balroop Singh

A man who embraces the voice of evil when it whispers in his ear is no less evil than the whisperer. ~ Orson Scott Card

Sometimes I still feel that there are two of me: one clean, flawless picture, the other imperfect and cracked; one boy, one girl; one voice that speaks aloud and one that whispers in my ear; one publicly known to have been troubled but be on the mend, the other who has privately lost something to do with innocence and gained something to do with knowledge and adulthood that can never be undone. I feel sometimes there are things that tear me in two directions, that there are two sets of thoughts that grow side by side. But then I realize that I am whole, whatever that means and does not mean; I am complete without the need for additions or alteration. ~ Abigail Tarttelin

Sardar Harbans Singh passed away peacefully in a wicker rocking-chair in a Srinigar garden of spring flowers and honeybees with his favourite tartan rug across his knees and his beloved son, Yuvraj the exporter of handicrafts, by his side, and when he stopped breathing the bees stopped buzzing and the air silenced its whispers and Yuvraj understood that the story of the world he had known all his life was coming to an end, and that what followed would follow as it had to, but it would unquestionably be less graceful, less courteous and less civilized than what had gone. ~ Salman Rushdie

If I'd known he was going to die, my last words to him would have meant something. They certainly wouldn't have been my out-of-tune attempt at singing that old Grateful Dead song he loved so much. No, I would have told him how I felt about him, straight out. No more flirting, wild-eyed whispers in the grass outside. I would have looked at him harder to ensure his image was permanently seared in my mind. I'd have asked him a million more things so I could remember what mattered before I got in the car on the way home from Custard's. Because after, nothing mattered. ~ Sarah Ockler

The whispers you hear in your ear that you fear
in the air everywhere,
they are ghosts.

The moans and the groans in the lowest of tones
no one owns or condones,
they are ghosts.

You might deem them gremlins or water or wind,
while others say shadows or rodents or sin.

But oh! I say no!
'Tis not so, child, for lo!
The chills that you feel in a thrill that proves goose
bumps are frightfully real,
they are ghosts! ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

His mouth slides down my neck, the side of his face settling over my heartbeat. "I hear you," he whispers, kissing my collarbone. "I can hear all of you, rushing around in there. A million Jacks and Juniors and Junes, a city of them. ~ Emily Henry

Smuggled away in whispers, by black familiars, unresisting, the beloved one leaves home, without a farewell, to darken those doors no more; henceforward to lie outside, far away, and forsaken, through the drowsy heats of summer, through days of snow and nights of tempest, without light or warmth, without a voice near. Oh, Death, king of terrors! The body quakes and the spirit faints before thee. It is vain, with hands clasped over our eyes, to scream our reclamation; the horrible image will not be excluded. We have just the word spoken eighteen hundred years ago, and our trembling faith. And through the broken vault the gleam of the Star of Bethlehem. ~ J. Sheridan Le Fanu

When the voices of doubt start whispering, turn-up the volume of faith and listen to your heart. ~ Bryant McGill

Existential envy which is directed against the other person's very nature, is the strongest source of ressentiment. It is as if it whispers continually: "I can forgive everything, but not that you are - that you are what you are - that I am not what you are - indeed that I am not you." This form of envy strips the opponent of his very existence, for this existence as such is felt to be a "pressure," a "reproach," and an unbearable humiliation. In the lives of great men there are always critical periods of instability, in which they alternately envy and try to love those whose merits they cannot but esteem. Only gradually, one of these attitudes will predominate. Here lies the meaning of Goethe's reflection that "against another's great merits, there is no remedy but love. ~ Max Scheler

As it ferments, kraut whispers alchemical secrets. In two days, it will smell as agreeable as an old pillow still warm from night's use. In five days it will smell like a horse run to foam. The odor will then lessen as the vegetable begins its tart transformation. It will be good to eat in two weeks, but at five weeks it will reach the zenith of its power, its taste a violin bow drawn across the tongue. After six weeks it will err slowly toward slime. Like hams and men, it gets better with age only to a point. ~ Eli Brown

I wonder what my father saw in his most secret sight of the right life. It's my guess he wanted to live out his life surrounded by friends and children and fertile fields of his own designing. I tihnk he wanted to die believing he had been in one the creation of a good sweet place. Those old pilgrims believed stories in which the West was a promise, a far away place where decent people could escape the wreckage of the old world and start over. Come to me, the dream whispers, and you can have one more chance. ~ William Kittredge

Memory in these incomparable streets, in mosaics of pain and sweetness, was clear to me now, a unity at last. I remembered small and unimportant things from the past: the whispers of roommates during thunderstorms, the smell of brass polish on my fingertips, the first swim at Folly Beach in April, lightning over the Atlantic, shelling oysters at Bowen's Island during a rare Carolina snowstorm, pigeons strutting across the graveyard at St. Philip's, lawyers moving out of their offices to lunch on Broad Street, the darkness of reveille on cold winter mornings, regattas, the flash of bagpipers' tartans passing in review, blue herons on the marshes, the pressure of the chinstrap on my shako, brotherhood, shad roe at Henry's, camellias floating above water in a porcelain bowl, the scowl of Mark Santoro, and brotherhood again. ~ Pat Conroy

I place my hands on his chest. He presses me into the curve of his body. Tilts my chin up to meet his eyes. "I'll be good to you," he whispers. "I'll be so good to you, Juliette. I promise."
And he kisses me. Hungrily. Desperately. Eager to break me open and taste me. ~ Tahereh Mafi

Ignoring the whispers of the skull, which kept suggesting different, unlikely kitchen utensils that could be used for murder, I sketched out a map of the room. ~ Jonathan Stroud

The world is truly a terrible place. Every one of my generation is lost, filling the holes which are their lives with seditious and yet passionless acts of unnecessary drama. It is a world of hypocrisy and whispers, a dark mine shaft of overfed, spoiled, and thankless slaves too stupid to realize that, despite their steady stream of shallow luxuries, they are still slaves. ~ Jason S. Hornsby

It's been a long time since humans were prey animals. A hundred thousand years or so. But buried deep in our genes the memory remains: the awareness of the gazelle, the instinct of the antelope. The wind whispers through the grass. A shadow flits between the trees. And up speaks the little voice that goes. Shhhh, it's close now. Close. ~ Rick Yancey

Keep your ears open and listen to the whispers of the universe, because they will guide you for the best. ~ Hina Hashmi

None of it was your fault, the whispers in my head argue. You didn't kill him, after all
it was not your blade that ended his life. So why are you the one cast out? You didn't have to return to the Daggers
you didn't need to help them rescue Raffaele. And still they turned on you. Why does everyone forget your good intentions, Adelina? ~ Marie Lu

At night in the tent, he leaves the flaps open, to feel the fire outside, to hear Anthony in the trailer, to see her better. She asks him to lie on his stomach, and he does, though he can't see her, while she runs her bare breasts over his disfigured back, her nipples hardening into his scars. You feel that? she whispers. Oh, he does. He still feels it. She kisses him from the top of his head downward, from his buzz-cut scalp, his shoulder blades, his wounds. Inch by inch she cries over him and kisses her own salt away, murmuring into him, why did you have to keep running? Look what they did to you. Why didn't you just stay put? Why couldn't you feel I was coming for you?

You thought I was dead, he says. You thought I had been killed and pushed through the ice in Lake Ladoga. And what really happened was, I was a Soviet man left in a Soviet prison. Wasn't I dead?

He is fairly certain he is alive now, and while Tatiana lies on top of his back and cries, he remembers being caught by the dogs a kilometer from Oranienburg and held in place by the Alsatians until Karolich arived, and being flogged in Sachsenhausen's main square and then chained and tattooed publicly with the 25-point star to remind him of his time for Stalin, and now she lies on his back, kissing the scars he received when he tried to escape to make his way back to her so she could kiss him.

As he drives across Texas, Alexander remembers himself in Germany lying in the bloody straw ~ Paullina Simons

Mindy runs to the DVD player and delicately places the disk in the holder and presses play. "Will you sit in this chair, please, Princess Mindy?" I ask, bowing deeply at the waist.
Mindy giggles as she replies, "I guess so."
After Mindy sits down, I take a wide-tooth comb and start gently combing out her tangles.
Mindy starts vibrating with excitement as she blurts, "Mr. Jeff, you're gonna fix my hair fancy, ain't you?"
"We'll see if a certain Princess can hold still long enough for me to finish," I tease. Immediately, Mindy becomes as still as a stone statue. After a couple of minutes, I have to say, "Mindy, sweetheart, it's okay to breathe. I just can't have you bouncing, because I'm afraid it will cause me to pull your hair."
Mindy slumps down in her chair just slightly. "Okay Mr. Jeff, I was ascared you was gonna stop," she whispers, her chin quivering.
I adopt a very fake, very over-the-top French accent and say, "Oh no, Monsieur Jeff must complete Princess Mindy's look to make the Kingdom happy.
Mindy erupts with the first belly laugh I've heard all day as she responds, "Okay, I'll try to be still, but it's hard 'cause I have the wiggles real bad."
I pat her on the shoulder and chuckle as I say, "Just try your best, sweetheart. That's all anyone can ask."
Kiera comes screeching around the corner in a blur, plunks her purse on the table, and says breathlessly, "Geez-O-Pete, I can't believe I'm late for the makeover. I ~ Mary Crawford