Quotes & Sayings About Hearing Your 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

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

I came in at half past eleven. Since then I have been sitting in an easy chair like a fool. I could do nothing. I hear nothing but your voice. I am like a fool hearing you call me 'Dear.' I offended two men today by leaving them coolly. I wanted to hear your voice, not theirs. When I am with you I leave aside my contemptuous, suspicious nature. I wish I felt your head on my shoulder. — James Joyce

For the rest of my life, I'll dream of hearing your voice breathe my name. — Sylvain Reynard

You act one way in front of everyone else, but at night when I'm on the phone with you, I get the real Charlie. It's going to be absolute torture not dialing your number and hearing your voice before I go to sleep each night, but I can't do this anymore. I can't only love that part of you - the real part of you. I want to love you when I talk to you at night and I also want to love you when I see you during the day, but you're beginning to show two different sides of yourself. — Colleen Hoover

And me, standing under the splintered night,
catching fractured glimpses into the black behind the black,
hearing the prayers of stars, the angry whispers of the dark summer night.

Its voice cracks,
on your name.

My eyes close,
on your name. — Marlen Komar

Avoid stock expressions (like the plague, as William Safire used to say) and repetitions. Don't say that as a boy your grandmother used to read to you, unless at that stage of her life she really was a boy, in which case you have probably thrown away a better intro. If something is worth hearing or listening to, it's very probably worth reading. So, this above all: Find your own voice. — Christopher Hitchens

Do not write. I am sad, and want my light put out.
Summers in your absence are as dark as a room.
I have closed my arms again. They must do without.
To knock at my heart is like knocking at a tomb.
Do not write!
Do not write. Let us learn to die, as best we may.
Did I love you? Ask God. Ask yourself. Do you know?
To hear that you love me, when you are far away,
Is like hearing from heaven and never to go.
Do not write!
Do not write. I fear you. I fear to remember,
For memory holds the voice I have often heard.
To the one who cannot drink, do not show water,
The beloved one's picture in the handwritten word.
Do not write!
Do not write those gentle words that I dare not see,
It seems that your voice is spreading them on my heart,
Across your smile, on fire, they appear to me,
It seems that a kiss is printing them on my heart.
Do not write! — Louis Simpson

We look so very different from the way we sound. It's a shock, similar to hearing your own voice for the first time, when you're forced to wonder how the rest of you comes across if you sound nothing like the way you think you sound. You feel dislodged from the old shoe of yourself. — Elizabeth Hay

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

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

If you aren't hearing your inner voice, it could mean you're overburdened or not stimulated enough, or that you've learned to shut it off because the people around you have refused to engage it. Perhaps you've had a hardening of the arteries around your soul. I believe the choices we make in our lives and the people and places surrounding us increase the volume of our inner voice, decrease it, or annihilate it entirely. — Kelly Cutrone

If this inner and critical voice has kept you safe for many years as your inner voice of authority, you may end up not being able to hear the real voice of God. — Richard Rohr

Maybe I don't know everything that happened to you over the years, but every time you open your mouth and something self-deprecating falls out, it's like I'm hearing someone else's voice coming out of you.
( ... )
Every time you say something like that, something that puts you down, you're letting someone else's opinion take control of you. — V.L. Dreyer

If you were listening to the hypnotic voice of your Source, you'd be constantly hearing the drum beating that says, 'You are loved, and you are worthy, and you are valued and life is supposed to be good for you. You are worthy, you are valued, you are loved and life is supposed to be good for you.' — Esther Hicks

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

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

Losing You
I used to think I couldn't go a day without your smile. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back. — Lang Leav

All of us have at least one great voice deep inside. People are products of their environment. A lucky few are born into situations in which positive messages abound. Others grow up hearing messages of fear and failure, which they must block out so the positive can be heard. But the positive and courageous voice will always emerge, somewhere, sometime, for all of us. Listen for it, and your breakthroughs will come. — Pat Riley

What's it like, Lexy? You wake up and you feel - what? Heaviness, an ache inside, a weight, yes. A soft crumpling of the flesh. A feeling like all the surfaces inside you have been rubbed raw. A voice in your head - no, not voices, not like hearing voices, nothing that crazy, just your own inner voice, the one that says 'Turn left at the corner' or 'Don't forget to stop at the post office,' only now it's saying, 'I hate myself.' It's saying, 'I want to die.' — Carolyn Parkhurst

Your voice tears me away from the reality that I exist and places my mind somewhere in between the infinity and beyond. Where everything is made of bliss and magic. Sometimes, I am scared of not hearing it again and never being able to get separated from this chaotic reality again. — Akshay Vasu

There are two special moments in a day I love the most
The moment Before I wake up, the feeling of existment and happinesse like a little kid, the rush of adrenaline into my body the beating of my heart so fast, and the whisper of my heart feeling your arms upon my chest whispers " is she real or are we still dreaming"

The end of the day
I crave you like an addict to drugs
Missing your beautiful face,
Missing the way you smile,
Missing the way you look at me
Missing hearing your voice
Missing the way you smell
Missing your soft skin
Missing how your body shake when my lips thouch your skin — Bilal

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

It is unacceptable to sit in your room alone and scream at your life, but it is perfectly acceptable (albeit not exactly normal) to do it with a good friend on the highway, hearing your voice rise to the rush of the window wind and then hearing it be taken away, left behind in your wake. — David Levithan

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

Six silent people in a room got me to thinking about the voice we hear in our heads when we read, the universal narrator's voice you may well be hearing right now. Whose voice *is* it you're hearing? It's not your own, is it? I didn't think so. It never is. So I posed the question out loud ... "
" ... When you read a book, whose voice is it you hear inside your head?"
"It's certainly not my own", said Harj, and the others chimed in with the same claim.
"Then whose it? — Douglas Coupland

Don't be afraid of wearing your heart on your sleeve. For myself, for a long time - maybe I felt inauthentic or something. I felt like my voice wasn't worth hearing. I think everyone's voice is worth hearing. So if you've got something to say... say it from the rooftops! That's what I would say. — Tom Hiddleston

My dad has a story about hearing from me at work one day when I hadn't had a chance to call in a while. He picked up the phone and was surprised to hear my voice. He was even more surprised that I was whispering. "Chris, why is your voice so hushed?" he asked. "I'm on an op, Dad. I don't want them to know where I'm at." "Oh," he answered, a little shaken. — Chris Kyle

Everything about filmmaking is incredibly weird, and there's nothing natural about watching yourself on the big screen or hearing your voice. It's that same thing that you feel when you watch yourself on a video camera and you hate the sound of your voice - it's that times 800. — Eddie Redmayne

The faith comes by hearing; the reward by follow-through. — Johnnie Dent Jr.

A PRESCRIPTION TO SHUT THE FUCK UP Max Booth III A Prescription for Shut the Fuck Up Refills Left: Unlimited For: Your Stupid Face TAKE THREE TABLETS DAILY OR, REALLY, ANY TIME YOU THINK ABOUT OPENING THAT GODDAMN MOUTH OF YOURS CHILLPILL 50 MG. 50MG Dr. Sick of Hearing Your Voice Discard After: You learn how to interact with actual human beings. WARNING: MAY CAUSE EMPATHY — Meghan Arcuri

I Miss You Outside the sun is shining, and the roses are in bloom. The sky this morning is so lovely, but here I sit in gloom. Outside the birds are singing, but in here, no beauty resides. For my heart is empty, shattered and broken, and will be 'til you're back by my side. Honey, I miss you every morning, and at night when I go to bed. I remember the times you were with me, and all the things that we said. And I miss your touch; the touch that makes me feel so much a man. I miss the smell of your hair, and the softness of your hands. I miss holding you in my arms and feeling your lips on mine. I miss hearing your sweet voice, which sounds so loving and kind. But most of all, I miss your warm tender body next to me as I sleep. I feel so empty when you're not here; I lie awake all night and weep. Because without your love, my life is over and I'll spend the rest of it being blue. So please say you love me and come back; for sweetheart, I miss you. — Kenneth Edward Barnes

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

Who are you?" she said, barely able to hear her own words as her heartbeat thrummed in her ears.
"This is your dream, remember? Tell me who I am," he said smiling, absently coiling a tendril of her long brown hair around a finger.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "If this is my dream, oneiroi, then answer my question. Who are you?"
He was hearing her true voice: that of a natural ruler. She watched him smile at her fearlessness, even as he loomed over her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I am your lord husband. — Rachel Alexander

I know that you make me laugh, and that I love hearing your voice, especially when you sing. I know that I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day you sat down beside me at that coffee shop. — Cora Carmack

I missed you like I've never missed anyone. I missed the future I was going to have with you. I missed the feeling of having you in my arms like this. I missed hearing your voice and seeing your face and sleeping next to you. I missed all of it because I was sure it was gone. — Allie Everhart

What I find is really interesting is the Ear-Nose-Throat doctor thing, which I know would take a lot of work and education, but it's something that really interests me, because it's something that helps people who've had the same problems as me, with the whole hearing and nose congestion and problems with your voice. — David Archuleta

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

In my prayers, I want to say: Lord, don't be far from me, and also don't come too close. Let me contemplate the stars on the texture of your cloth, but don't unveil your face to me. Allow me to hear the rivers that you send running, but Lord! Lord! Don't allow me hearing your voice — Amin Maalouf

I could hear the exasperation in her voice, so beautiful and familiar, but sad, too, like hearing church bells right before your funeral. — Brock Clarke

The thrill of hearing your own voice recorded is still there, I still love it, going into the studio and thinking how can I sing this song and between the producers and the musicians you find a way of doing it. — Cliff Richard

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

I think US/UK genre has become more open to "diverse" writers and writing; there's a genuine interest in reading work from countries outside the US/UK and hearing voices that have been historically shut out, but at the same time, people are quite lazy. That sounds harsh, but I include myself in it - your tastes are shaped by what you've read and watched before, and it takes a little effort to understand stories that use a different voice, that follow different storytelling conventions, that are trying to subvert the dominant paradigm. There's a quite large group of people who are "yay diversity" in theory, but I think the number of people who have then said to themselves, "OK, if I'm committed to this, I need to start reading outside my comfort zone and making an effort" is maybe a little smaller. — Zen Cho

The Listening Exercise
Relax. Close your eyes. Try for several minutes to concentrate on all of the sounds you hear in your surroundings, as if you were hearing an orchestra playing its instruments. Little by little, try to separate each sound from
the others. Concentrate on each one, as if it were the only instrument playing. Try to eliminate the other sounds from your awareness.
When you do this exercise every day, you will begin to hear voices. First, you will think that they are imaginary. Later, you will discover that they are
voices of people from your past, present, and future, all of them participating with you in the remembrance of time.
This exercise should be performed only when you already know the voice of your messenger.
Do this exercise for ten minutes at a time. — Paulo Coelho

I brought you here for the same reason I keep coming back to the bar in the hope of hearing you sing, the same reason I bought this and your other paintings. I need you. It scares the f**k out of me but I have never felt this in my entire life. I need to be near you, to hear your voice and see your face. — J.B. Hartnett

Speak up,' says Myrna who has a fuzzy white caterpillar of a moustache. 'My hearing's not so good.'
'I WAS SHOT IN THE HEAD.'
Liz turns to Thandi. 'I thought you said you didn't remember how you got the hole in your head.'
Thandi apologizes. 'I just remembered.'
'Shot in the head!' Florence-scratchy-voice says. 'Oy, that's rough.'
'Aw, it's nothing special. Happens pretty regularly where I'm from,' Thandi says.
'WHAT?' asks Myrna with the moustache. 'Say it toward my left ear, that's the good one.'
'I SAID, "IT'S NOTHING SPECIAL,"' Thandi yells/ — Gabrielle Zevin

When you were awake, stretched out in your bed in the dark, shutters drawn, your thoughts would flow freely. They would grow obscure when you got up and opened the curtains. The violence of daylight would efface the nocturnal clarity. In the daytime, people were barriers, dividing you up, preventing you from hearing what you listened to at night: the voice of your brain. — Edouard Leve

I didn't know a living person could hurt you so badly.
When the pain originates with someone who is gone, it's your own memory that hurts you. Walking through the house, touching things they've touched, hearing sounds they heard, wondering what they would've thought of one thing or another. This is pain that I know, pain that I can handle, pain that is so much a part of me that if it were removed I would not be whole.
But when it's someone who's alive who hurts you, the pain can't be escaped. The things they've touched are still warm because they were just there, the sounds they hear reach your ears too - sometimes their own voice, and it's excruciating to bear. I know what he thinks about this, that, or the other because I can hear him saying so. But not to me. He doesn't talk to me anymore. — Mindy McGinnis

Precious is sleep, better to be of stone,
while the oppression and the shame still last;
not seeing and not hearing, I am blest;
so do not wake me, hush! keep your voice down. — Michelangelo Buonarroti

As a singer, you can't hear what's coming out of your throat; you're only hearing it from the inside, so you need a trusted person who knows how your voice works. It's like a car. You take it to the same mechanic because they know it inside out, and every time you get it back, it works fantastic. — Stephen Costello

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

You ran into my life, this beautiful, amazing girl who changed everything. I finally saw what my world could be. What being normal and happy could look like. You've given me everything I never thought I could have! It scares to me think of life without you. Of not seeing your smile or hearing your voice. — A Meredith Walters

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

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

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

Read this to yourself. Read it silently.
Don't move your lips. Don't make a sound.
Listen to yourself. Listen without hearing anything.
What a wonderfully weird thing, huh?
NOW MAKE THIS PART LOUD!
SCREAM IT IN YOUR MIND!
DROWN EVERYTHING OUT.
Now, hear a whisper. A tiny whisper.
Now, read this next line in your best crotchety-
old man voice:
"Hello there, sonny. Does your town have a post office?"
Awesome! Who was that? Whose voice was that?
It sure wasn't yours!
How do you do that?
How?!
It must've been magic. — Bo Burnham

That's why I hadn't talked to you for a while. But man, did I miss hearing your sweet voice." Sandy was surprised. Mark was never the type to talk about "missing" anything, — Kim Brooks

I like hearing the sound of your voice, but I don't care a bit what you're saying. — Christopher Isherwood

What is more natural than that a solidity, a complicity, a bond should be established between Reader and Reader, thanks to the book?
You can leave the bookshop content, you, a man who thought that the period where you could still expect something from life had ended. You are bearing with you two different expectations, and both promise days of pleasant hopes; the expectation contained in the book - of a reading experience you are impatient to resume - and the expectation contained in that telephone number - of hearing again the vibrations, a times treble and at times smoldering, of that voice, when it will answer your first phone call in a while, in fact tomorrow, with the fragile pretext of the book, to ask her if she likes it or not, to tell her how many pages you have read or not read, to suggest to her that you meet again ... — Italo Calvino

An Ass put on a Lion's skin and went
About the foreset with much merriment,
Scaring the foolish beasts by brooks and rocks,
Till at last he tried to scare the Fox. But Reynard, hearing from beneath the mane
That Raucous voice so petulant and vain,
Remarked. O' Ass, I too would run away,
But that I know your old familiar bray'.
That's just the way with asses, just the way. — Aesop

It was the first time I had heard the truth of what happened that afternoon said in a voice that was not my own. Hearing what happened from Ann was like the difference between seeing your face in a mirror and seeing it in a photograph. — Scott Spencer

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

The poem is called: The first glance.
You were standing there
Your presence changing the atmosphere.
I can't help to stare
Your beauty is so rare.
Watching you
Is like the sunset on the ocean shore.
Hearing your voice
Left me wanting more.
Oh, baby you're giving me no choice.
I beg you to fulfill my loneliness
With your gracefulness.
I beg you to give me a glimpse
Of your pure soul.
Baby, make me whole,
Make me free
And go out with me. — Rose J. Bell

PLAY ME.
My gaze flicked to the hand. The fist was curled around a small tape recorder. I moved the fingers - still warm - and pressed play. A male voice started to speak.
"Do I have your attention?" the voice asked.
I knew that voice. But I couldn't believe I was hearing it.
"Noah's alive," Jude said. — Michelle Hodkin

I used to think I couldn't go a day without your smile. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back.
Then, that day arrived and it was so damn hard but the next was harder. I knew with a sinking feeling it was going to get worse, and I wasn't going to be okay for a very long time.
Because losing someone isn't an occasion or an event. It doesn't just happen once. It happens over and over again. I lose you every time I pick up your favorite coffee mug; whenever that one song plays on the radio, or when I discover your old t-shirt at the bottom of my laundry pile.
I lose you every time I think of kissing you, holding you, or wanting you. I go to bed at night and lose you, when I wish could tell you about my day. And in the morning, when I wake and reach for the empty space across the sheets, begin to lose you all over again. — Lang Leav