Voice Quotes - Page 2

Songwriting and poetry are so commonly birthed from underdogs because one can make even the ugliest situations admirable, or more beautiful than the beautiful situations - they are the most graceful media in which the lines of society are distorted.

Now more than ever the world needs your brilliance, your voice, your unique imagination, and your particular genius.

I like your voice the most in this world.

A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that gave it wings.

Tricky was a plain-faced man with a very handsome voice - a voice like the sound of a clarinet, at once liquid and penetrating, and lovely to listen to.

As long as they talk about you, you're not really dead, as long as they speak your name, you continue. A legend doesn't die, just because the man dies.

Take a step towards actualizing the very thing you are persuaded for and do not allow injustice to silence your voice.

There is no index of character as sure as the voice.

I totally bought you as a girl," says Marisol. "I'll double check with Frances later, but by the sounds of things, you seem to have no balls.

A feminist is any woman who tells the truth about her life.

If I were to vote, I would intentionally vote for the goofiest candidate. It is my theory that when the people can outwit the leader, the more respected their voices will be.

You discover your voice. You matter. Maybe not to the world, yet. You matter to yourself. You're worthy.

It's not a silly pursuit to read beyond what's handed to you, to seek out new voices and leap over the usual books everyone's already talking about and see what you can find on your own.Making definitive choices about what we spend our time on as readers can make a statement, a difference. We can lift other writers up, give space and attention to more voices than the ones that already have all the space and attention.There is power in what we choose to consume as readers, and there is power in what we choose to amplify, celebrate, and share.

No words would ever be more powerful than the presence of a friend.

The Bible is the voice of God, calling out to everyone.

A great voice is a unique instrument, not to sound like another instrument, but to be played like one.

It's easier not to say anything. Shut your trap, button your lip, can it. All that crap you hear on TV about communication and expressing feelings is a lie. Nobody really wants to hear what you have to say.

The person you are (in total, at that moment in time) is what creates the story you're writing. It's infused in every piece of punctuation, in the plot, in the most minor character who crosses the page. It's all your voice.

She had a voice so husky it could have pulled a dogsled, and the gun she was holding gave me a bad case of barrel envy.

He doesn't hear but sees the Voice.

Don’t pass my voice, what I said about! If you want to-pack the expression, the context and even the body language with it. Misunderstandings are like by-product of mishandling the whole transportation of what was said.

The ear never forgets what the soul says.

Yet because her needs and yearnings are real and pressing, she must find some way to express them: she puts into body what she cannot yet put into words. Her eating disorder serves as her voice, her attempt to express and meet her needs and desires without directly asking for anything".

Words matter. All semester, we were looking for the words to say what we needed to say. We were all looking for our voice.

Yawns are not the only infectious things out there besides germs.Giggles can spread from person to person.So can blushing.But maybe the most powerful infectious thing is the act of speaking the truth.

On your way to accomplish greatness, you will hear a lot of noise. Listen to your inner voice and never let the distraction of the crowd discolour your poise.

My mother's journals are a shadow play with mine. I am a woman wedded to words. Words cast a shadow. Without a shadow there is no depth. Without a shadow there is no substance. If we have no shadow, it means we are invisible. As long as I have a shadow, I am alive.

He spoke in a trembling voice that didn’t seem to be entirely in sync with the movement of his lips. That’s because sound travels slower in halitosis.

From time to time, we all must go unto a landscape—be it inner or outer landscape—where there are no hiding places. Allowing the stark awe and silence to aid us in both communing and confronting the depth of ourselves. We fear emptiness because we know that within those places of nothingness we will come face-to-face with who we are and gaze into the internal mirror. But what is the alternative? Shall we go our entire life without hearing our own voice . . . without ever having met who we are when isolated from all?

It was not my intention - it never was - to invent a character who should speak for me, the author, in person. A character is in a story to fill a role there, and the character's life along with its expression of life is defined by that surrounding - indeed is created by its own story. Yet, it seems to me now, years after I wrote The Golden Apples, that I did bring forth a character with whom I came to feel oddly in touch. She derived from what I already knew for myself, even felt I had always known. What I have put into her is my passion for my own life work, my own art. Exposing yourself to risk is a truth that Mrs. Eckhart and I had in common. What animates and possesses me is what drives Mrs. Eckhart, the love of her art and the love of giving it, the desire to give it until there is no more left. Of course any writer is in part all of his characters. How otherwise would they be known to him, occur to him, become what they are? In the making of her character out of my most inward and most deeply felt self, I would say I have found my voice in my own fiction.

The decision is your own voice, an opinion is the echo of someone else's voice.

The volume of your voice does not increase the validity of your argument.

He was dimly angry with himself, he did not know why. It was that he had struck his wife. He had forgotten it, but was miserable about it, notwithstanding. And this misery was the voice of the great Love that had made him and his wife and the baby and Diamond, speaking in his heart, and telling him to be good. For that great Love speaks in the most wretched and dirty hearts; only the tone of its voice depends on the echoes of the place in which it sounds. On Mount Sinai, it was thunder; in the cabman's heart it was misery; in the soul of St John it was perfect blessedness.

Forget your voice, sing!Forget your feet, dance!Forget your life, live!Forget yourself and be!

Steam Lodge Song of the Sun Dance Ceremony:A voice, I will send. Hear me! The land All over, A voice I am sending! Hear me! I will live!

...listening with absorbed attention more to her voice than to what she was saying, and thinking how like she was, flowering through her voice into beauty in the darkness, to some butterflies he had come across in the Swiss mountains the summer before. When they were folded up they were grey, mothlike creatures that one might easily overlook, but directly they opened their wings they became the loveliest things in the world, all rose-colour or heavenly blue. So had she been to him in the daylight that afternoon,--an ordinary woman, not in any way noticeable; but now listen to her, opening into beauty on the wings of her voice!

My love, you are driving the entire world mad. The nightingales are committing suicide one by one out of jealousy of your voice. The roses took one glance at your beauty and folded themselves from shame. The trees now only whisper your name and the sky hasn’t stopped crying since you looked up. Have pity on us, my love. We have already broken all the mirrors and glass out of fear that you will forget us and fall in love with yourself once you see what we all cannot stop seeing.

Worship is not about having a fantastic voice.

Graffiti is one of the few tools you have if you have almost nothing. And even if you don't come up with a picture to cure world poverty you can make someone smile while they're having a piss.

His voice is so low I can feel it brushing my waist.

The infant New York Times boasted that no newspaper printing what was really worth reading ever perished for lack of readers.

We are living in glorious days where each readers' voice can be heard.

It is through victims such as myself who still have a voice that the world will change to be a better place.

POLISH your MIND to reflect the shimmering BEAUTY of your WORDS and ACTIONS.

Anna's voice wasn't a beautiful voice - rough edged and sorrowful, a bit used, somehow male and female at once. Yet it had more vibrancy to it than most Danish voices, which were often thin and white and too pretty to trigger a shiver. Anna's voice had the heat of the south; it warmed Einar, as if her throat were read with coals.

I wonder how long it would take for anyone to notice if I just stopped talking.

Voicing out your concerns in a calmly way is a great thing to do and it helps and saves lives of those who can't speak up.

People are very busy; they are so busy that when they walk in the crowds they see no one, no one but themselves; they hear no voice, no voice but their own voice!

In solitude, you listen to sacred voice.

When we were young, we were told that poetry is about voice, about finding a voice and speaking with this voice, but the older I get I think it’s not about voice, it’s about listening and the art of listening, listening with attention. I don’t just mean with the ear; bringing the quality of attention to the world. The writers I like best are those who attend.

Will you have the courage to obey the voice of God?

When there is silence, Give your voice. When there is darkness, Shine your light. When there is desperation, Offer hope.

... and I realise the only way to tell the others is through the way my voice can take these broken wordsand turn it into music. Turn it into poetry.And I sing to make myself come alive, but also for you,because I’d like this to mean something.To not disappear with the dark I will enter one day and so now I will tell.If not for you, then for my own heart, because it tells me to,and I'm learning to listen.

You are not one of Pentrigrel’s creations. This is not where you belong. He will not keep his word to you. He is concerned only with himself. You cannot condemn yourself to this over Lunette’s fate.

...and you will hold me with your wondering eyes in the serenity of purest mind at the dreams edge of my quiet golden shores accompanied by the melodies of emerald blue rippling waves where I will always remain voicing harmony in the over the rainbow soothing memories of your heart...

Just because an impressive storm doesn’t touch you, you must not find it beautiful! Lend an ear to the voices of those which are under the storm!

I used to listen to all the voices in my head that told me I wasn’t good enough, or that I would fail if I tried, or that everyone would judge me harshly for my truth. I used to let one fear or the other dictate how I chose to live my life. Not surprisingly, my life didn’t change much. I spent a lot of time with regret, and thinking about what could have been. I found myself wishing I’d at least tried to do some of the things I’d been so afraid to do. So I began to. I made the choice to hear all the fearful critics in my head without actually listening to them. I gave them a voice, but no longer a say. I had given all the power to my fear, after all, so it was within me to take it away. And my entire life changed, as every life does once we insist that our fears take a backseat to our courage and desire. Fear may not be a choice, but the commitment to take brave action, despite our fears, is always there for the choosing. I spent enough time obeying my fears. Too much time. Now I listen to different voices, the ones reminding me that no matter what happens, no matter what people think, the great potential of my life, and joy, lives within my commitment to live my life beyond my fear.

Behold,' said the Voice, 'earthly beauty. It is nothing but seeming, for to the uninstructed eye the world appears fruitful and sweet, yet in it is nothing but a pile of skulls, showing where others were lost as they went before.

Her laughter changed her voice from wind chimes to the jingling of sleigh bells.

The weight of your words is more important than the volume of your voice!