Voice Quotes - Page 220

"Jem?" he said. "Is it you, James?" "Who else?" Jem's voice.

Clary," he whispered. There was a thump, and she realized he had fallen to his kees by the side of her bed. She didn't move, but her body tightened. His voice was a whisper. "Clary, it's me. It's me.

This time Clary concentrated, trying to focus her mind on Simon-The Simon-ness of him, the shape of the way he thought, the feeling of hearing his voice, the sence of him close. His whispers, his secrets, the way he made her laugh. 'So', she thought conversationally, 'now that I'm in your mind, wnat to see some naked mental pictures of Jace?' Simon jumped. "I heard that! And, no.

I did it because I love you!" he half-shouted, and then, as if registering the shocked look her face, he said in a more subdued voice, "I love you, Tessa, and I have loved you, almost since the moment I met you.

Well, hello there, Mother,” Sebastian said in a voice like silk. “Surprised to see me?

I didn't know," he said. "I didn't know you needed me." Her voice shook. "I always need you

Am I blind?" Will's voice floated out of the darkness, tinged with annoyance. "I'm not going to be at all pleased if you've blinded me, Henry.

She looked up from closing it to find Jace watching her through hooded eyes. “And one last thing,” he said. He reached over and pulled the sparking pins out of her hair, so that it fell in warm heavy curls down her neck. The sensation of hair tickling her bare skin was unfamiliar and oddly pleasant. “Much better,” he said, and she thought this time that maybe his voice was uneven too.

Will moved to object, but it was too late; Henry had already pressed the button. There was a blinding flare of light and a whooshing sound, and the room was plunged into blackness. Tessa gave a yelp of surprise, and Jem laughed softly. "Am I blind?" Will's voice floated out of the darkness, tinged with annoyance. "I'm not going to be at all pleased if you've blinded me, Henry.

Simon!” The voice was Clary’s. He would know it anywhere. He wondered if his mind was conjuring it up now, a sense memory of what he’d most loved during life to carry him through the process of death. “Simon, you stupid idiot! I’m over here! At the window!” Simon jumped to his feet. He doubted his mind would conjure that up.

Magnus began to be truly alarmed. Will's voice would have shaken, betraying that his cruelty had been part of his playacting, but his son's laugh was that of someone genuinely delighted by the chaos erupting all around him

So you are dying for love, then," Will said finally, his voice sounding constricted to his own ears. 'Dying a little faster for love. And there are worse things to die for.

Let the sky rain potatoes," said a musing voice. "Let it thunder to the tune of Greensleeves.

Tess?” A soft voice at the door; she looked up and saw Will there, silhouetted in the light from the corridor.

I hate my voice. I've never been comfortable singing.

Hopefully each film can be given a musical voice of its own, which is not to say that the instrumentation is always unique, but that the relationship between the sound and the image is unique.

I just can't stand the sound of my voice sometimes, or how my face looks. There are always a few times at every premiere when I just have to cover my eyes when I'm up there.

Just so you know, I'm straight. Totally straight. As an arrow." Her voice held a smile. "So am I

Astley comes to my side. 'Are you well?' 'No,' I tell him, voice hoarse. 'I am not well. I am broken inside. I am broken almost all-the-way deep, and I don't know...I don't know if I can ever be unbroken, let alone well again'

Somehow when I express my voice, I feel that much more vulnerable. For instance, if I used the wrong word, or if I said something and somebody could take the word and misinterpret it.

Faris turned on him. "Why choose to wear black today, of all days? I know why I'm in black. Why are you? Mourning? He looked startled. "One does not wear mourning for a servant." You still don't understand, do you? He was not my servant." He regarded her anger, aghast. "What then? What else could he be? Her empty hands shook as she held them out to him. Her voice shook as she replied, "Glove to my hand." Slowly she closed her fists. "Everything.

I am listening for the voices Which I heard in days of old.

Someone asks me what's my practice? I don't want the fear of being humiliated to have authority over me. I don't want it to come near me. I don't want it to have a voice in my decisions. I don't want it to be anywhere near me. What's my practice? That one. I don't ever want to humiliate a human being, and I don't want the fear of being humiliated to participate in my thoughts.

People define their life by what they want versus what they have. People get fixated on something and they have to have it, even though that voice inside tells them it's not meant for them.

People know when they've betrayed themselves. They are very much aware when they are not honest with themselves. They hear the voice that says, "You shouldn't have said that" or "You know that's not right."