Quotes & Sayings About Hearing His Voice

Grandma smiled brightly. "How lovely! It seems your whore has arrived."
Jake groaned and covered his face with his hands. There was no way out of it. His grandmother was going to get him shot.
A&E women scorned, here I come.
"Excuse me?" Aileen put her hands on her hips and did a weird head nod at Grandma, and nearly teetered off her high heels. Oh, this wasn't good. Not good at all.
Grandma reached out and patted Aileen's arm. "Sweetheart, I'm the one with hearing aids, not you. I called you a whore. Would you like me to spell it for you, too?" She nudged Jake. "What did you do? Find her at a high school career fair?" And then in a horrifyingly loud voice she began spelling. "W-H-O-R-E. — Rachel Van Dyken

To trust in spite of the look of being forsaken; to keep crying out into the vast, whence comes no returning voice, and where seems no hearing; to see the machinery of the world pauselessly grinding on as if self-moved, caring for no life, nor shifting a hair-breadth for all entreaty, and yet believe that God is awake and utterly loving; to desire nothing but what comes meant for us from His hand; to wait patiently, ready to die of hunger, fearing only lest faith should fail
such is the victory that overcometh the world, such is faith indeed. — George MacDonald

They say no such things," his wife replied. "No one thinks you are a coward." "I can hear them," he said. "It is your own voice you are hearing, husband," she said. — Khaled Hosseini

The process was remarkably cathartic. I'd sit and listen to my father's voice - having not heard some of these tapes for 30 years and hearing his voice laying me down for a nap, our giggles and cooking dinner - and I remembered all those wonderful days. Normal days. — Jennifer Grant

But there's something flirty/sexy about his voice that's appealing to my inner romantic comedy actress.
Then again, maybe it's just his penthouse apartment I'm hearing. My inner gold digger frequently beats the crap out of my inner Meg Ryan. — Josh Kilmer-Purcell

Former vice president Al Gore has devoted his post-administration years to a mission to tell the world about global warming. It's funny, but in his civilian life Gore has discovered the voice that voters had trouble hearing when he ran for president in 2000. The voice he has found is clear, impassioned, and moving. — Graydon Carter

Behind him the Master of Ceremonies cleared his throat. His eyes took on a distant, glazed look.
"The Stealer of Souls," he said in the faraway voice of one whose ears aren't hearing what his mouth is saying, "Defeater of Empires, Swallower of Oceans, Thief of Years, The Ultimate Reality, Harvester of Mankind, the - "
ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT. I CAN SEE MYSELF IN. — Terry Pratchett

You don't run,' he corrected me. 'But you're more than able.' There was no shadow of doubt in his voice. Hearing it from someone else made me realize: there was nothing stopping me from running but me. — Alexandra Heminsley

This Beloved of ours is merciful and good. Besides, he so deeply longs for our love that he keeps calling us to come closer. This voice of his is so sweet that the poor soul falls apart in the face of her own inability to instantly do whatever he asks of her. And so you can see, hearing him hurts much more than not being able to hear him ... For now, his voice reaches us through words spoken by good people, through listening to spiritual talks, and reading sacred literature. God calls to us in countless little ways all the time. Through illnesses and suffering and through sorrow he calls to us. Through a truth glimpsed fleetingly in a state of prayer he calls to us. No matter how halfhearted such insights may be, God rejoices whenever we learn what he is trying to teach us. — Teresa Of Avila

Will's voice dropped. "Everyone makes mistakes, Jem."
"Yes," said Jem. "You just make more of them than most people."
"I - "
"You hurt everyone," said Jem. "Everyone whose life you touch."
"Not you," Will whispered. "I hurt everyone but you. I never meant to
hurt you."
Jem put his hands up, pressing his palms against his eyes. "Will - "
"You can't never forgive me," Will said in disbelief, hearing the
panic tinging his own voice. "I'd be - "
"Alone?" Jem lowered his hand, but he was smiling now, crookedly. "And
whose fault is that? — Cassandra Clare

V frowned. There was only a hissing sound coming from the voice mail. But then a clatter had him yanking the phone away from his ear.
Now Butch's voice, hard, loud: "Dematerialize. Dematerialize now."
A scared male: "But-but-"
"Now! For fuck's sake, get your ass out of here ... " Sounds of muffled flapping.
"Why are you doing this? You're just a human-"
"I am so sick of hearing that. Leave!"
There was a metallic shifting, a gun being reloaded.
Butch's voice: "Oh,shit ... "
Then all hell broke loose. Gunshots, grunts, thuds.
V leaped up from his desk so fast he knocked his chair over. — J.R. Ward

I'll see she gets them," Brodick said.
Judith shook her head. "I want to meet her," she explained. She stood up and walked over to the table. "I have messages to give her from her mother."
"I'll be happy to show you the way," Alex volunteered.
"I'll do it," Gowrie announced in a much firmer voice.
Brodick shook his head. "Isabelle is my sister-in-law," he snapped. "I'll show Judith the way."
Iain had opened the door, and stood there listening to the argument. He was having difficulty believing what he was hearing ... and seeing. His warriors were acting like lovesick squires while they argued over who would escort Judith. — Julie Garwood

His brain had been a glass ball. Nothing in it but echoes. His mother's scent. Father's voice. How Anireh's gaze had held him from across the room, and her eyes said, Survive. They said, Love, and I'm sorry. They said, Little brother.
And then silence. It became silent in Arin's head as he stood on the road. He stopped hearing voices. He thought about how it had seemed strange that Risha would plot the emperor's death, yet refuse to kill him herself. Arin understood now. He knew how it was to have no family: like living in a house with no roof. Even if Kestrel were here, and begged him - Let your sword fall, do it, please, now - Arin wasn't sure that he could make her an orphan. — Marie Rutkoski

She can hear me?" "She probably can. I think so." I put his hand on Nana's and my hand on top of his. "Go ahead." "Hi, Nana!" he said as if Nana were hard of hearing, and it was difficult not to laugh. "Inside-the-house voice, buddy," Bree said. "But good enthusiasm there. I'll bet Nana heard you. — James Patterson

It was this: the future beginning to hang thick in the air, and Henry starting a quiet, drunk conversation about whether or not Blue would like to travel to Venezuela with him. Blue replying softly that she would, she very much would, and Gansey hearing the longing in her voice like he was being undone, like his own feelings were being unbearably mirrored. I can't come? Gansey asked. Yes, you can meet us there in a fancy plane, Henry said. Don't be fooled by his nice hair, Blue interjected, Gansey would hike. And warmth filled the empty caverns in Gansey's heart. He felt known. — Maggie Stiefvater

You could not save him." Dretta nodded. "But he saved you. And you, Merros Dulver, you are supposed to save us from these Sa'ba Taalor when they attack. That's what I keep hearing. That you are a hero and will keep us safe from the people that killed my husband." Her voice was calm as she looked away from him to layer slices of roast meat and bread on his plate. When she looked up at him again her eyes were dry. "Keep us safe. Keep me safe. And while you are doing that, I want you to find the bitch that murdered my man and I want you to carve her head from her body." Her voice was still calm; as if she were discussing the crops she might plant on the last lands of her villa. "Bring me her head and prove to me that my husband made the right choice in dying for you. — James A. Moore

And you," Ty continued, his voice breaking. "You're a
phoenix, Zane. Rising from the ashes. And all I do is make
you burn."
Zane's throat was too tight to swallow past, and his next
breath came out a choked sob. He had never imagined that
was how Ty saw him, and hearing it now made him want to
take back every harsh word they'd ever shared, every thrust
and parry of their relationship. — Abigail Roux

Florentino Ariza was awake most of the night, thinking that he heard the voice of Fermina Daza in the fresh river breeze, ministering to his solitude with her memory, hearing her sing in the respiration of the boat as it moved like a great animal in the darkness. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Deep spirit scanning," Eisfanger says. His voice has a strange resonance to it, like I'm hearing him through a bad phone connection. "Don't worry, it's completely safe. Well, mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Side effects have been documented," he admits. "In a very small percentage of cases. Less than two percent."
"What kind of side effects?" Suddenly I'm feeling nauseous. Feels like the ants are crawling around inside me now, which is exactly as disturbing as it sounds.
"Memory loss. Synesthesia. And occasionally ... vestigial growths."
"So I could forget my own name, start smelling purple everywhere and have an extra nipple sprout from my forehead? — D.D. Barant

I had made up my mind to find that for which I was searching even if it required the remainder of my life. After innumerable failures I finally uncovered the principle for which I was searching, and I was astounded at its simplicity. I was still more astounded to discover the principle I had revealed not only beneficial in the construction of a mechanical hearing aid but it served as well as means of sending the sound of the voice over a wire. Another discovery which came out of my investigation was the fact that when a man gives his order to produce a definite result and stands by that order it seems to have the effect of giving him what might be termed a second sight which enables him to see right through ordinary problems. What this power is I cannot say; all I know is that it exists and it becomes available only when a man is in that state of mind in which he knows exactly what he wants and is fully determined not to quit until he finds it. — Alexander Graham Bell

One of the greatest benefits of our salvation has to be that of hearing God speak to us personally. There can be no intimate relationship with our heavenly Father without it. But, as easy as it is for us to speak to Him, the average Christian has a hard time hearing His voice. This is not the way the Lord intended it to be. — Andrew Wommack

So when you left Hex Hall after Holly died, that wasn't because you were the grief-stricken fiance. You were going to The Eye."
"Yeah. I told them that I thought Elodie and her coven had raised a demon, so we decided I should get close to her,see what was really going on."
"And you decided to get really close to her."
He laughed softly. "I can't see you, but I have a feeling you're cute when you're jealous,Mercer."
Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, "It's not jealousy you're hearing, it's digust. You dated a girl you didn't even like just to get information out of her."
His laughter died, and his voice sounded weary when he said, "Trust me, a lot of my brothers have done much worse."
There was so much I wanted to ask him, but it's not like we could sit out here all night passing the sharing stick or whatever.Time to cut to the chase.
"So did The Eye tell you to get all Mata Hari on me too? — Rachel Hawkins

A scream is a sound we make that is born of intense feeling. A scream of fear, of being startled, is often high-pitched. It may be short or prolonged. A scream may also accompany delight or amusement, though often that is more of a squeal. And a scream of sorrow or rage ... well, that is an entirely different thing. That comes from a darker place, from the depths of our souls, and when we scream in those times, because we are sad or angry, there is a terrible knowledge that accompanies it, that we are giving voice to our emotions, to what is simply too big for our hearts to contain.
And as Li Wei cries out, I know Feng Ji is right. It is his heart I am hearing, a way of expressing what he feels over his father's loss that is both primal and beautiful, and it comes from his soul and reaches something within mine. It is the sound my own heart made when my parents died, only I didn't know it until now. — Richelle Mead

I used to rush into strange dreams at night: dreams many-coloured, agitated, full of the ideal, the stirring, the stormy
dreams where, amidst unusual scenes, charged with adventure, with agitating risk and romantic chance, I still again and again met Mr. Rochester, always at some exciting crisis; and then the sense of being in his arms, hearing his voice, meeting his eye, touching his hand and cheek, loving him, being loved by him
the hope of passing a lifetime at his side, would be renewed, with all its first force and fire. Then I awoke. Then I recalled where I was, and how situated. Then I rose up on my curtainless bed, trembling and quivering; and then the still, dark night witnessed the convulsion of despair, and heard the burst of passion. — Charlotte Bronte

I've a need for knowing what potion you mixed with these, lass." The rich baritone of his voice washed over her with a mesmerizing quality. She liked the sound. A lot. 'Twas deep and majestic, the kind of voice a body would never tire of hearing....
Apparently we have company. We shall finish this conversation anon."
"I highly doubt that we will," she retorted. "My brother has arrived to accuse me of witchcraft and arrest me. Unless you are available for hire as my protector, this conversation is quite finished."
Instead of appearing shocked, the stranger's eyes took on a twinkle. "Is that so? Most damsels in your distressed shoes would be either weeping or swooning by now. Instead you offer me employment. I'll admit I am fascinated by your offer. — Jo Grafford

For the first time, he allowed himself to think of the day when they might part, of what would come of her. He could not imagine a day without hearing the soft, sultry sound of her voice, of smelling roses and finding himself completely distracted by her scent, by the gentle sway of her hips, the soft brush of her hair against his skin. Her smiles alone were worth a king's ransom.
He would send her into a world where a hundred men would be eager to snatch up what he had tossed away so carelessly. They would not care if she ever smiled. Aye, he knew what would become of her. But what would become of him? — Elizabeth Elliott

Yes. It's there. It's all there. She's my blood mate, Jeb. I've found my blood mate." He couldn't suppress the joy rising inside him, knowing he had finally been blessed. Jeb chuckled at hearing his brother's happiness. "I remember it wasn't too long ago when I was in your pants, Simon." "Shoes," a sleepy voice interrupted, more amused than annoyed. "You were in his shoes, t'kor. Not his pants. — Linda Mooney

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

He hadn't suffered the eternity of the ring about to be picked up, didn't know the heart rush of hearing that incomparable voice suddenly linked with his own, the sense it gave of being too close to even see her, of being actually inside her ear. — Jeffrey Eugenides

His voice has invaded me. I'm not just hearing it. I'm taking it in through all five senses. It's intimate in a way I can't even begin to explain. — Kim Holden

It is easy to say that you can adopt the whole human race as your children, but it is not the same as living in a home with a child and shaping all you do to help him learn to be happy and whole and good. Don't live your life without ever holding a child in your arms, on your lap, in your home, and feeling a child's arms around you and hearing his voice in your ear and seeing his smile, given to you because you put it into your heart. — Orson Scott Card

I wanted to clap my hands over my ears to stop from hearing his voice. It was like he was climbing into my mind without even taking off his shoes. — Otsuichi

Working on my own vocals is something I've been avoiding. But, I'm constantly thinking of ways to be able to include my own vocals without getting embarrassed. Even John Lennon wasn't comfortable on hearing his voice. — Hans-Peter Lindstrom

This one," he said, "is for my wife."
With a pointed glance, Gideon signaled the band to start. An instantly recognizable bass beat ratcheted up my pulse.
"Lifehouse!" Shawny crowed, clapping her hands. "I love them!"
"He's calling you his wife already!" Megumi yelled, leaning toward me. "How freaking' lucky are you?"
I didn't glance at her. I couldn't. My attention was riveted on Gideon as he looked directly at me and sang, telling me in a lusciously raspy voice that he was desperate for change and starving for truth.
He was answering my song.
My eyes burned even as my heart began to beat with a different rhythm. Had I thought he'd be unemotional? My Good, he was killing me, baring his soul in the rough timbre of his voice.
"Holy fuck," Cary said, his eyes on the stage. "The man can sing."
I was hanging by a moment, too, hanging on to every word, hearing his message about chasing after me and falling more in love. — Sylvia Day

No. I came here to see you. I didn't believe the rumors,but after hearing it on so many continents I had to come andsee for myself."
"See what?"
His eyes widened in adulation, his voice taking on areverent tone. "If it was true that Helen of Troy, nay, Aphrodite herself had been reincarnated in gym teacher form."
The room was utterly silent. Except Vicious Redhead's jaw dropping to the ground with a little plink. Or maybe I imagined that. And then the class did the worst thingpossible: They started giggling. Miss Lynn was going tomurder me. — Kiersten White

I think about how lonely I am without you. How boring my day is without you. How much I miss hearing your voice and your laugh. How much I miss listening to music and eating cake with you." We smiled shyly at each other. His gaze lifted, looking directly into my eyes. "I miss taking care of you," he hesitated for a moment. "I miss my best friend and I want her back in my life." His words glued every piece of my shattered heart back together. — Alison G. Bailey

The wise man, then, when he must govern, knows how to do nothing. Letting things alone, he rests in his original nature. He who will govern will respect the governed no more than he respects himself. If he loves his own person enough to let it rest in its original truth, he will govern others without hurting them. Let him keep the deep drives in his own guts from going into action. Let him keep still, not looking, not hearing. Let him sit like a corpse, with the dragon power alive all around him. In complete silence, his voice will be like thunder. His movements will be invisible, like those of a spirit, but the powers of heaven will go with them. Unconcerned, doing nothing, he will see all things grow ripe around him. Where will he find time to govern? — Thomas Merton

I concentrate intently on counting: hearing my voice break as the torment and torture builds; fingering myself intensely at his instruction. As we get past ten I slip up; overwhelmed by the sensations wracking my body, I realise in horror that I don't know which number is next. — Felicity Brandon

Dr. Praxton agreed. "And I say if you're going to kill from the neck so not to supply the brain, you deliver the kill shot to both carotid arteries. A one sided brain is a worthless walking corpse. But the mistake would be allowing him to keep walking."
Daniel hesitated, thinking on Dr. Praxton's words. "Taking his voice may force him out."
"But the freaking idiot had no voice to begin with," Tot complained.
Daniel nodded. "Yes, that indeed ... which brings me to the question; what exactly is the nature of his Degale state?"
"He is Dumb, so his sense of hearing is amplified within the Baremata Stream. And like a whisper in the wind, The Dementor dements by feeding back the glimpses he catches in the Stream," Curl replied. — Dew Platt

The Next Chapter in the Book of Hope: "Gaining New Hope Hearing Aids" As I was with the Lord in the "Classroom of Useful Information," the Lord began to share from the second chapter of the "Book of Hope." This chapter taught about the right, hopeful "Hearing Aids" that would enable His Hope Craftsmen to hear His voice and become a company of hopeful Kingdom hearers. — Bob Hartley

I'm thinking about Bert.'
Without hearing any more about it, she knew what this meant: Wally had had his fun, and now he was getting ready to get out from under. She waited a moment or two, as she often did when angered, but in spite of her effort to sound casual, her voice had a vibrant sound to it. 'And what about Bert? — James M. Cain

In summary, she did jump off a cliff, but she wasn't trying to kill herself. Bella's all about the extreme sports these days."
I flushed and turned my eyes straight ahead, looking after the dark shadow that I could no longer see. I could imagine what he was hearing in Alice's thoughts now. Near-drowings, stalking vampires, werewolf friends ...
"Hm," Edward said curtly, and the casual tone of his voice was gone. — Stephenie Meyer

The voice so filled with nostalgia that you could almost see the memories floating through the blue smoke, memories not only of music and joy and youth, but perhaps, of dreams. They listened to the music, each hearing it in his own way, feeling relaxed and a part of the music, a part of each other, and almost a part of the world. — Hubert Selby Jr.

Some of you seek for faith much in the same way as you would dig for a well. You turn the eye inward upon yourself and search amidst the depths of your polluted heart to find if faith is there; you search amid all your feelings at sermons and sacraments to see if faith is there; and still you find nothing but sin and disappointment. Learn Martha's plan. She looked full in the face of Jesus; she saw his dust-soiled feet and sullied garment, and his eye of more than human tenderness. She drank in his word: 'I am the resurrection and the life'; and in spite of all she saw and all she felt, she could not but believe. The discovery that Jesus made of his love and power, as the head of dead believers and the head of living believers, revived her fainting soul, and she cried: 'Yea, Lord, I believe.' Faith comes by hearing the voice of Jesus. — Robert Murray McCheyne

Hearing God is not all that difficult. If we know the Lord, we have already heard His voice - after all it was the inner leading that brought us to Him in the first place. But we can hear His voice and still miss His best if we don't keep on listening. After the what of guidance comes the when and how. (11) — Loren Cunningham

God has given us a gift, Kate. He has made us the overseers to this magnificent planet." He opened his arms and gestured toward the woods. "Every tree, bird, flower, and field . . . God made them for us." She listened intently, hearing the passion in his voice. "But with such a grand gift comes great responsibility," he continued, punctuating his words by pointing his finger in the air. "We must take great care of this gift and respect it in His name. The same goes for people. We need to take care of each other." He dropped the stick on the ground. "I don't think the rest of the world has figured that out yet, Kate. — Sarah Price

Mr. Clark," she repeated, looking up at him. "You are very tall."
"And you," he said in a low voice, "you, my most maddeningly beautiful, brilliant, Free. You are perfectly sized. If you Mr. Clark me once more, I shall be forced to do something dreadful, something like kiss you in public."
Even her wildest fantasies had not had him saying something like that on arrival. She squeezed his hands and then looked up into his dark eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Clark," she said. "What did you say, Mr. Clark? Mr. Clark, I fear that I have become rather hard of hearing. The noise of the press is terribly distracting. What was that you said you'd do if I called you Mr. Clark? — Courtney Milan

Sin looked over at Boyd through sleepy looking, heavy lidded eyes. "Callate la boca, blanquito."
Hearing Sin speak Spanish didn't help any; he sounded especially sexy when he was drawling those words fluidly in his low, velvety voice. "What does that mean?" he asked, half with an edge and half just curious.
Full lips turned up into a small smirk and Sin raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the window. "It's a secret."
"Putain de beau gosse," Boyd muttered under his breath in mild annoyance, flipping forward several pages. — Santino Hassell

I won't ever stop loving you," I promised him.
"Good," Jake replied, and upon hearing how hoarse his voice was with emotion, I felt tears prick my eyes.
"I won't ever stop loving you. No matter what. — Samantha Young

She thinks about his words, hearing the truth of them. They resonate, as if a tuning fork aligned with the sound of her heart and gave it a voice. — Kimberly Morgan

Then she leaned slightly into him and said gently, "I don't think you should be left be. I think you're dealing with something heavy, you're obviously doing it alone." She threw a mitten-covered hand out to indicate the area, "You need to unload it, Chace."
Christ.
Fuck.
Christ.
That voice, quiet, gentle, so fucking sweet saying his name, her eyes soft on him.
Fuck.
Better than he could have imagined.
Better than he ever could have dreamed.
And not his.
Never to be his.
Which meant finally hearing her say his name was torture. — Kristen Ashley

The sole really unpredictable factor in this life, from autumn to winter, spring to summer, from one school year to the next, was Dad. I was so frightened of him that even with the greatest effort of will I am unable to recreate the fear; the feelings I had for him I have never felt since, nor indeed anything close.
His footsteps on the stairs - was he coming to see me?
The wild glare in his eyes. The tightness around his mouth. The lips that parted involuntarily. And then his voice.
Sitting here now, hearing it in my inner ear, I almost start crying. — Karl Ove Knausgard

Jan shook his head, 'No. You have the most beautiful, powerful voice that any of us are ever hearing,' he said. 'How could we leave you alone? It would be against the law. I would have to telephone Interpol. — Lucy Robinson

I don't want to talk about it," she said. Once again he was close. Too close. So damn close. "At all," she added, hearing with some alarm that her voice had softened. Everything had softened, at just his proximity. "Ever," she whispered, and found her gaze locked on his mouth.
He had a really great mouth.
"I don't want to talk, either," that mouth said very seriously. And then he lowered his head and kissed her. — Jill Shalvis

He tried his luck again, and things went so smoothly that with no more noise or disturbance than the last time, he found himself rid of the burden that had caused him so much grief. But since Don Quixote had a sense of smell as acute as his hearing, and Sancho was joined so closely to him, and the vapors rose up almost in a straight line, some unavoidably reached his nostrils, and as soon as they did he came to the assistance of his nostrils and squeezed them closed between two fingers, and in a somewhat nasal voice, he said: It seems to me, Sancho, that you are very frightened. — Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra

The Bible should never close us to hearing God's voice in other venues; rather it ought to open us to recognize it whenever we hear it. In a sense, the Scriptures are a tuning fork for adjusting our ears to the tone of God's voice. It attunes us to the quality, the pitch and the cadence of God's voice, and to the character that his voice expresses, so that we can identify his true voice over false ones. — Adam S. McHugh

Silence is the room we create for the searching of God, where we hear His voice and follow. — Mark Buchanan

In this oasis of quiet, before the wonderful spectacle of nature, one easily experiences how profitable silence is, a good that today is ever more rare ... In reality, only in silence does man succeed in hearing in the depth of his conscience the voice of God, which really makes him free. And vacations can help to rediscover and cultivate this indispensable interior dimension of human life. — Pope John Paul II

More and more, I enjoy hearing people who are good at their instruments and who've found a distinctive voice. In death metal, a lot of guys are Eddie Van Halen disciples, but they take his style to really expressionistic places. It's a real pleasure for me to hear people pushing their craft. — John Darnielle

The anxious wait lasted four years, and the alert ears never despaired of hearing, at any moment, the voice of the great conch shell which would bellow through the hills to announce to all that Macandal had completed the cycle of his metamorphoses, and stood poised once more, sinewy and hard, with testicles like rocks, on his own human legs (36-37). — Alejo Carpentier

His voice was like ice, cold and unforgiving, which was like hearing a different Draven altogether. Here he wasn't my Draven, soft and gentle. NO, here he was the Master, here he was the one in control ... here, he was a God! — Stephanie Hudson

We may insist as often as we like that man's intellect is powerless in comparison to his instinctual life, and we may be right in this. Nevertheless, there is something peculiar about this weakness. The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it will not rest until it has gained a hearing. Finally, after a countless succession of rebuffs, it succeeds. — Sigmund Freud

I am pitching it feebly," said young Bingo earnestly. "You haven't heard the thing. I have. Rosie shoved the cylinder on the dictating-machine last night before dinner, and it was grisly to hear the instrument croaking out those awful sentences. If that article appears I shall be kidded to death by every pal I've got. Bertie," he said, his voice sinking to a hoarse whisper, "you have about as much imagination as a warthog, but surely even you can picture to yourself what Jimmy Bowles and Tuppy Rogers, to name only tow, will say when they see me referred to in print as "half god, half prattling, mischievous child"?"
I jolly well could
"She doesn't say that?"I gasped.
"She certainly does. And when I tell you that I selected that particular quotation because it's about the only one I can stand hearing spoken, you will realise what I'm up against. — P.G. Wodehouse

Journaling is the single most effective tool you may ever find for deeper intimacy with Father God and Jesus. It is a heart-to-heart method of communication with God. For you see, it is God's desire to intimately commune with you and to have you intimately commune with Him. Journaling facilitates this heart-to-heart communion - it is simply listening to each other's heart and writing it down.
Journaling helps you hear God's voice. God is speaking to you most of the time. Often you do not differentiate His voice from your own thoughts and therefore do not realize you are actually hearing God's voice. If you can learn to clearly discern His voice speaking within you, you have found the font of intimacy - the heart of God speaking to you. — Linda Boone

Two-Minute Tyler got nixed two weeks ago," she said.
Vaughn looked unmistakably pleased, hearing this. "Why?"
She slid her arms around his neck. "Because when he kissed me, I pictured you instead."
"Well, I hope you soaked it up, Sinclair. Because that was the last first kiss you'll ever have." He
bent his head, his voice low and possessive. "All the rest are mine. — Julie James

Too cold even to snow - that winter presents a strange and haunted season during which Werner prowls the static like he used to prowl the alleys with Jutta, pulling her in the wagon through the colonies of Zollverein. A voice materializes out of the distortion in his headphones, then fades, and he goes ferreting after it. There, thinks Werner when he finds it again, there: a feeling like shutting your eyes and feeling your way down a mile-long thread until your fingernails find the tiny lump of a knot. Sometimes days pass after hearing a first transmission before Werner snares the next; they present a problem to solve, something to wrap his mind around: better, surely, than fighting in some — Anthony Doerr

Staring up at me, hearing my tired voice, he reached out his tiny hand. He knew me, even though he had never seen me before. And I knew him. He was the love I'd been trying to express my whole life. — Noah Hawley

I'm sorry," I whisper. My cold lips fumble the words.
"Don't be." His voice is a low rumble against me, the sound carrying through my bones, clearer than any of the voices I've been hearing. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. — Amie Kaufman

He rolled his eyes at Suren. He couldn't stand the sound of that sow's voice. Hearing her say his name was especially traumatic. About as traumatic as, say, being stuck in an elevator for eternity with a coked-up Gilbert Gottfried arguing with a methed-up Fran Drescher while a drunk Harvey Fierstein attempted to mediate. — Aaron Overfield

After they had gone another mile, Pinocchio heard the same little low voice saying to him:
'Bear it in mind, simpleton! Boys who refuse to study, and turn their backs upon books, schools, and masters, to pass their time in play and amusements, sooner or later come to a bad end ... I know it by experience ... and I can tell you. A day will come when you will weep as I am weeping now ... but then it will be too late! ... '
On hearing these words whispered very softly, the puppet, more frightened than ever, sprang down from the back of his donkey and went and took hold of his mouth.
Imagine his surprise when he found that the donkey was crying ... and he was crying like a boy! — Carlo Collodi

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. — Cassandra Clare

He dialed the number that Health Partners had listed in their contact information. A pleasant southern voice answered, but Baldwin quickly realized it was voice mail. Damn, he was hoping to get a secretary. The voice gave him the option of hitting zero to speak to a live person, and he did just that. Muzak drifted out from his earpiece and he rolled his eyes. There was just something so wrong about hearing synthesized Aerosmith. "Dude (Looks Like A Lady)" just didn't work in the dulcet tones of elevator music. After — J.T. Ellison

Some time ago I discovered that I could no longer speak aloud or read aloud from a stage, even for the sake of hearing the effect that my writer's voice produced on listeners. Now, curiously, the more I merely try to live, the more reclusive I become, the vainer I am. At last I am as vain as the one who instantly voices his silence inside me. — John Hawkes

But then he remembered what George had told him about pain. You know what you can do, even if your body says quit. It's only pain.

"It's only pain, he thought, hearing George's voice and seeing his eagle-face. If anyone would know, George would, he thought. And truly, he thought, it's the most useful one thing a body can know. — James Alexander Thom

Among other words used in ordinary conversation, [Francis of Assisi] could never hear "the love of God" without a kind of transformation within himself. For immediately upon hearing "the love of God," he would become excited, stirred, and inflamed, as though an inner chord of his heart had been plucked by the plectrum of the outward voice of the speaker ... . "The love of him," he said, "who loved us much is much to be loved."1 - Thomas of Celano,The Second Life of Saint Francis — Pope Francis

The only thing he was sorry for was slamming the door and perhaps raising his voice to the woman who'd been like a mother to him since the passing of his parents. Perhaps she hadn't really deserved his reaction, but he was, justifiably, weary of their meddling and hearing about his father's will. Apparently no suitable maiden was going to appear on his doorstep. He seemed to be looking for a needle in a haystack. — Lisa M. Prysock

Losing your faith in a world where God is all around you is a precarious business. When God shows his face on a daily basis to your friends and neighbors, it is, on some level, impossible to stop believing in Him. Instead i felt that God chose to exclude me from His world. Since i was the only one to lose faith, to stop hearing Christ's voice, i thought perhaps it was my fault that Roy had left us. I thought i was being punished for some unknown sin. I had learned early in my Catholic career that one could sin silently in one's heart. One could even sin without ever discovering what one had done or why it was wrong. What had i done, i asked myself, to make God disappear and take Roy with Him. — Alison Smith

Was it weird hearing from Jace?" asked Simon, his voice carefully neutral. "I mean, since you found out ... "
His voice trailed off.
Yes?"said Clary, her voice sharply edged. "Since I found out what? That he's a killer transvestite who molests cats?"
No wonder that cat of his hates everyone."
Oh, shut up, Simon," Clary said crossly. — Cassandra Clare

She leaned closer and gently took his face into her hands. His rugged, beautiful face. "Thank you," she said, her voice suddenly growing husky as moisture collected at the back of her throat. "Thank you for saving my son." She touched her lips to his bandage-covered forehead. "You're the best man I've ever known, Benjamin Porter. And I'm frightened by how much you are coming to mean to me." "Don't be afraid, Tori." The low mumble of words brought her head up like a shot. "Ben?" His mouth quirked a half smile even as his eyes fluttered open. "I like hearing you say my name." Never — Karen Witemeyer

Panic bloomed in my chest. Before I could scramble off his lap, he reached up and gently stroked my hair. I froze, hands braced on his chest for stability, ready to flee. "I've been waiting for that since the moment I saw you," he said in a deep and husky voice. He sounded like a midnight radio DJ. Hearing his perfect voice ignited my temper. Now, he could talk? I scowled at him. The man had the audacity to laugh then scoop me up in his arms. The — Melissa Haag

He lowered his voice. "You are a true shield-maiden; you do not turn from a scar on a man's face."I looked at him and did not lower my eyes. "My father was an ealdorman, and his brother ealdorman after him. He taught me that a scar is the badge of honour of the warrior, and this I believe."He regarded me for a long moment. "I think I am glad we did not face your father and his brother in battle," he said, "for they were of better stuff than what we have found here."In saying this, he gave my dead kinsmen much praise. I felt that praise came rarely from the Danes, and took a strange pleasure in hearing him say this. I did not speak, but he lifted his cup to me, and I again took up mine. - Sidroc the Dane to Ceridwen — Octavia Randolph

He watched her from the fading dark, unseen and invisible, just another shadow in the trees. He wondered if he had been right to come here, to see her one last time, though he knew resisting her was futile. He couldn't leave without seeing her again, hearing her voice and seeing her smile, even though it wasn't for him. He had no illusions about his addiction to her. She had her fingers sunk firmly into his heart, and could do with it what she wished.
He watched her walk away with the Iron faery and the dog, watched them leave to return to her own realm, back to a place he couldn't follow.
For now. — Julie Kagawa

Hey!" I exclaimed, seeing the total. "They're charging me retail. Glenn!" I
complained. "They can't do that." I shook it at him. "I shouldn't have to pay retail!"
"What did you expect? You can keep that. It's your copy."
I sat back in a huff and shoved it in my bag with my sticky scarf as he typed his slow, painful way through my report. "Where's this human compassion I keep hearing about?"
"That's it, baby doll," he said, voice smoother than usual. He was laughing at me. — Kim Harrison