Muffled Voice Quotes & Sayings

The throw truck driver and car-lot owner stood there, peering at us. Hier voice came through, muffled by the glass. 'You find what you're looking for?'
Grace reached across and rolled down the window. She was talking to him but looking at me, gaze intense, when she said, 'Absolutely. — Maggie Stiefvater

A muffled voice startled them both.
"When are you going to kiss her?"
They pulled away. In the ballroom windows, noses and hands pressed against the glass, were the girls. They stood among the prickly rosebushes, beaming wicked little grins. Delphinium and Eve whispered and giggled to each other; Bramble wore a magnificent grin on her face and a spark of light in her yellow-green eyes.
Another figure stood among them. This one had his arms folded across his chest, stiff and firm and formal ...
... Yet he did not look displeased. — Heather Dixon

Maxon wrapped his arms around me, and I laughed as he covered me with kisses.
We were so distracted, we didn't even hear the butler open the door. "Your Majesty, there's a call from - "
Before he could finish, Maxon chucked a pillow at him, and the butler retreated into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him. There was a pause before a muffled voice filtered in. "Sorry, sir. — Kiera Cass

Here, kitty, kitty, Chico says. The cover of his cage is still on, making his tiny clown voice slightly muffled. I feel bad for him under there, just waiting to start his evil little day ... Freud walks toward Chico in his slinky fashion, sits under his cage and just stares. We have satanic pets ... our pets seem to have made a pact with the devil. — Deb Caletti

...but that very thought, that she might become his wife, had for some reason entered his head the very first time she sat in his study at a little round table, diligently taking down in shorthand the words he dictated in his muffled voice - and he had been purposely dry and sharp with her that day, so she would not feel the power she had already gained over him, but when, as he dictated to her, he imagined himself kneeling before her beneath the flickering light of a nearly spent candle and kissing her feet, with her unable to leave because she was his wife, and about to blow out the candle so they could plunge into the passionate, exquisite swim, then his voice became hoarse and he shut his eyes to blot out the sight of this little girl, as he purposely tried to picture her to help restrain his imagination, girl students being as untouchable as postulants... — Leonid Tsypkin

Kit," said a female voice, "what's wrong with the fridge? All the food's gone. No, wait, there's a really ugly alien in here disguised as a leaky lettuce. Hey, I guess I shouldn't be rude to it; it's a visitor. Welcome to our planet, Mr. Alien!"
This was followed by some muffled remark that Nita couldn't make out, possibly something Kit was saying. A moment later, Kit's sister Carmela's voice came out of Nita's refrigerator again. "Hola, Nita, are your phone bills getting too big? This is a weird way to deal with it ... — Diane Duane

Hana?" Lena says softly. "Are you okay?"
That single stupid question breaks me. All the metal fingers relax me at once, and the tears they've been holding back come surging up at once. Suddenly I am sobbing and telling her everything: about the raid, and the dogs, and the sounds of skulls cracking underneath regulator's nightsticks. Thinking about it again makes me feel like I might puke. At a certain point, Lena puts her arms around me and starts murmuring things into my hair. I don't even know what she's saying, and I don't care. JUst having her here - solid, real, on my side - makes me feel better than I have in weeks. Slowly I manage to stop crying, swallowing back the hiccups and sobs that are still running through me. I try to tell her that I've missed her, and that I've been stupid and wrong, but my voice is muffled and thick — Lauren Oliver

So what do I do? What do we do? How do we move forward when we are tired and afraid? What do we do when the voice in our head is yelling that WE ARE NEVER GONNA MAKE IT? How do we drag ourselves through the muck when our brain is telling us youaredumbandyouwillneverfinishandnoonecaresanditistimeyoustop? Well, the first thing we do is take our brain out and put it in a drawer. Stick it somewhere and let it tantrum until it wears itself out. You may still hear the brain and all the shitty things it is saying to you, but it will be muffled, and just the fact that it is not in your head anymore will make things seem clearer. — Amy Poehler

A sharp rap at her window startled her even further, and her blood rushed in a charge from her head to her feet. She blinked and blinked again, but the tall figure at the window didn't appear to be going anywhere.
"It's really wet out here, y'know," came a muffled voice from the other side of the glass. "Are you going to ignore me for much longer? — Frankie Rose

She lay there, destroyed, quiet aftershocks shuddering through her. Silence settled into the room.
"Mind letting go of my hair, Sophi?" His muffled voice vibrated against her pubic bone.
"Oh!" She released her fists still violently clenched in his hair. He raised his head, laughter gleaming in his eyes. — Patricia A. Knight

Lucille, please make them go away!" she moaned, her voice muffled.
"Do you think I am a divine being sent from the celestial realm to guard you from the harsh punishment of rousing from your slumber?"
"Is that a yes?"
"I am surrounded by idiots. — Erica Sehyun Song

Stacey was holding the throw pillow to her mouth now, and all that was visible were her huge, dark brown eyes. When she spoke, her voice was muffled."Who is that?"
I started to explain, but Cayman bowed in her direction extending his arm with a flourish."Only the most handsome and smartest and downright most charming demon there is."But I know that's a mouthful, so you can call me Cayman."
"Um." Her gaze darted around the room."Okay. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

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

Without a word or glance, Sin walked past her and climbed up to the stables loft. 'What's he doing?' she asked Braden as she rejoined him. 'I'm leaving the two of you alone,' Sin's muffled voice answered from above. Braden tilted his head up to stare at the wooden beams above their heads. 'Like it would matter, since we know you can hear everything we say?' 'Aye, well, I'm a pervert, not a voyeur.'
-Maggie, Sin, & Braden — Kinley MacGregor

In Ronan's hand, the mask was as thin as a sheet of paper, still warm from Adam's gasped breaths. Orphan Girl buried her face in his side, her body shaking with sobs. Her tiny voice was muffled: "Tollerere me a hic, tollerere me a hic ... "
Take me away from here, take me away from here. — Maggie Stiefvater

I always started studying with the best intentions, telling myself that today just might be the day it all fell into place, and everything would be different. But more often than not, though, after a couple of pages of practice problems, I'd find myself spiraling into an all-out depression. When it was really bad, I'd put my head down on my book and contemplate alternate options for my future.
"whoa," I heard a voice say. It was muffled slightly by my hair, and my arm, which I locked around my head in an effort to keep my brain from seeping out. — Sarah Dessen

Yeah,' said Ron. 'Could've been worse. Remember those birds she set on me?'
'I still haven't ruled it out,' came Hermione's muffled voice from beneath her blankets, but Harry saw Ron smiling slightly as he pulled his maroon pajamas out of his rucksack. — J.K. Rowling

I kind of miss that "becoming" stage, as most times you really don't know what's around the corner. Now, of course, I've kind of knocked on the door and heard a muffled answer. Nevertheless, I still don't know what the voice is saying, or even what language it's in. — David Bowie

It was Eric's voice not Simon's, on the recorded message. "Ladies, ladies " he said. Though it was the millionth time she'd heard the recording, Clary couldn't help rolling her eyes. "If you've reached this message that means our boy Simon is out partying. But please don't fight among yourselves. There's always enough Simon to go around." There was a muffled yell, some laughter, and then the long sound of the beep. — Cassandra Clare

If the tools are bad, nature's voice is muffled. If the tools are good, nature will give us a clear answer to a clear question. — Freeman Dyson

I-I'm not making advances," she told him as she flattened herself against his chest. "You're just an available s-source of heat." "So you say," St. Vincent replied lazily, tucking the quilt more tightly around them both. "However, during the past quarter hour you've been fondling parts of my anatomy that no one's ever dared to touch before." "I v-very much doubt that." She burrowed even further into the depths of his coat, and added in a muffled voice, "You've probably been h-handled more than a hamper at Fortnum and Mason. — Lisa Kleypas

I am happy to say that there is nothing to report." The guard's voice grew muffled as he bent to shrug off his armor. "Save that I now know every path and stream in this village as though I were born here and had never set foot outside it, and have counted all the leaves on all the trees and found them in good health and order, and have taken the liberty of naming all the frogs down by the creek, placing them into clans by the markings on their back and taking for myself the title King and Overlord of all Frog-Kind. — Matthew Jobin

You expecting a collapse, Gunny?" "The technical sergeant is repairing alien technology with a piece of torn uniform - I'm expected the Goddamned tunnel to blow up." "Ressk's helping." Mike's voice sounded muffled. "And that makes all the difference," Torin snorted. — Tanya Huff

Sorry to wake you, but we have to be somewhere soon, remember?"
Ash grunted and, to my surprise, shifted to his back and put the pillow over his head. "I don't suppose I could convince you to go without me," he groaned, his voice muffled beneath the fabric. "Tell Mab I've been eaten by a manticore or something? — Julie Kagawa

Not that I mind this in the least," he said quietly, reluctant to give up the intimacy but worried enough that he had to ask, "but is something troubling you, Sam?"
Her breath caught, then began again. Slowly she nodded against his chest. Christ.
Okay, it was bad. Calculating how hard he should push and how she would react, he decided to cajole her into talking. "You're not sick, are you?"
"No," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.
So far, so good. "I'm not sick, am I?"
"No."
"No one's died?"
"No. No one at all."
Nearly complete sentences now. That seemed like an improvement. Keeping his voice calm and quiet and the questions over the top and nonthreatening, he kept talking. "You haven't stolen anything that will force you to flee the country? — Suzanne Enoch

Look through people," I tell her, my voice muffled by the helmet. "Smile without kindness. No small talk, no court talk. Act as if you have a million secrets, and you're the only one important enough to know them all."
She nods, taking this all in stride. After all, Cal and I have both instructed her on how to pass as Maven. This is merely a reminder, a last glance at the book before the test. "I'm not a fool," she replies coldly, and I almost punch her in the jaw. She is not Maven rings in my head, louder than a bell.
"I think you've got it," Kilorn says as he stands. He grabs my arm, pulling me slightly away. "Mare nearly killed you. — Victoria Aveyard

Lottie stared blindly at the dark canopy overhead. "Nick," she asked raggedly, "is this the usual way that people h-have relations?"
His voice was muffled. "What is the usual way?"
She inhaled sharply as he nipped at the inner curve of her thigh. "I'm not entirely certain. But I don't think this is it."
His voice thickened with amusement. "I know what I'm doing, Lottie."
"I was not implying that you didn't ... oh, please don't kiss me there!"
Then she felt him shake with suppressed laughter. "For someone who has never done this before, you're rather opinionated. Let me make love to you the way I want, hmmn? The first time, at least." He grasped both her wrists and pinned them at her sides. "Lie still. — Lisa Kleypas

She buried her face against his chest, solid and broad, allowing herself this moment to fully lean on him, take some of the strength he readily offered. "I don't regret my choice," she said, her voice muffled as she pressed herself tight. "If I had to, I'd make the exact same decisions. But it hurts so damned much."
"Give me your pain, love," he said holding her against the steady beat of his heart. "Let me take it for you."
She shook her head. "No, the pain is mine to bear. I need it." She took a ragged breath. "To make me stronger. — Zoe Archer

When I saw them on the beach, perfectly tanned, or when I watched them twirling in the waves, I grasped the transcendental element in surf music. It was all about freedom from the rules of life, the whole of your being concentrated in the act of shooting the tube. For several years after that trip to L.A. I subscribed to Surfer magazine, and I practiced the Atlantic Ocean version of the sport, though only with my body and on rather tame waves. With my voice muffled by the water I would shout a line from "Surf City." To me, this was the ultimate fantasy of plenty: "two girls for every boy," except I sang it as "Two girls for every goy." Fortunately, Brian has survived the schizoid tendencies that seemed close to the surface when I met him. He's still performing and writing songs. But it was his emotional battle and the intersection of that struggle with the acid-dosed aesthetic of the sixties that produced his most astonishing music. — Richard Goldstein

I wish I was a smoker," Haven said with a brittle laugh, walking around the apartment with jittery energy. "This is one of those times when chain-smoking seems appropriate."
"Oh, no you don't," Hardy murmured, reaching out to catch her wrist. "You got enough bad habits already, honey." He drew her between his thighs as he leaned against the sofa, and she nestled against him.
"Including you," she said, her voice muffled. "You're my worst habit."
"That's right." He combed his fingers through her dark curls, and kissed her head. "And there's no getting over me."
-Haven & Hardy — Lisa Kleypas

Do you want to be put under first?" she asked Lewis as they sat down.
"Huh?" he replied in confusion.
Something like a cough came out of Vlad that jerked her head up. Vampires didn't need to cough. Was that a muffled laugh?
"You know." Kira's eyes flashed green at Lewis, and her fangs seemed to jump out of her gums. "Get bespelled so you don't remember this."
Lewis appeared even more confused. "If that's what you want."
I will not as for pointers from Dracula, she swore to herself. I will not. "Yeah, I'd feel better about that. So, ah ... look into my eyes."
Another strangled sound came from Vlad's direction. Now Kira was sure it was a laugh. She was determined to ignore him.
Lewis obediently stared at her, and Kira tried to make her voice sound confident. "You don't feel anything. You're not afraid."
"I am," came Vlad's immediate reply. "If you tell him wolves are the children of the night next, I might hurt myself laughing. — Jeaniene Frost

Okay, listen to me," the old man said, his voice muffled behind his own swath of fabric. "We need to set some things straight before we get up there. We can't let our emotions rule everything. No matter what we see, our number one priority has to be saving as many people as possible. — James Dashner

Any thought that abandons unity glorifies diversity. And
diversity is the home of art. The only thought to liberate the mind
is that which leaves it alone, certain of its limits and of its
impending end. No doctrine tempts it. It awaits the ripening of the
work and of life. Detached from it, the work will once more give a
barely muffled voice to a soul Forever freed from hope. Or it will
give voice to nothing if the creator, tired of his activity, intends to
turn away. That is equivalent. — Albert Camus

It's my turn to feed him," Gray says without looking up. "So bottled breast
milk it is. He hates it. I know, little dude," he says to the baby. "I love Mommy's
boobs too, but she needs to sleep."
From the far room, a muffled groan rings out. "Mother guilt has killed my
sleep," says Ivy's disembodied voice. "And don't discuss my boobs with my son,
Cupcake. — Kristen Callihan

Ty braced himself as Julian walked directly up to him, not breaking stride, his jaw set, his blue-green eyes as dark as the deep part of the ocean.
He reached Ty and caught hold of him, pulling him into a fierce hug. He pressed his face down into his little brother's black hair as Ty stood, frozen and astonished at Julian's lack of anger.
"Jules?" he said. "Are you alright?"
Julian's shoulders shook. He held his little brother tighter, as if he could crush Ty into himself, into a place where he'd always be safe. He put his cheek against Ty's curls, squeezing his eyes shut, his voice muffled. "I thought something happened to you," he said. "I thought Johnny Rook might
"
He didn't finish his sentence. Ty put his arms carefully around Julian. He patted his back, gently, with his slender hands. It was the first time Emma had seen Ty comfort his older brother
almost the first time she'd ever actually seen Julian let someone else take care of him. — Cassandra Clare

You're suppressing my first amendment rights," she said, voice muffled. "You don't live in America; you live in the United States of Teague. — Lauren Gilley

He dismounted and helped Amelia to the ground. At his direction, she sat on a fallen birch log while he set up a makeshift camp. She waited with her hands folded neatly in her lap, watching his every movement as he pulled a bundle of blankets from the packsaddle. In a few minutes he had made a fire in the stone-circled pit and laid out a pallet beside it.
Amelia hurried to the pile of blankets and burrowed beneath the layers of wool and quilted cotton. "Is it safe out here?" she asked, her voice muffled.
"You're safe from everything but me." Smiling, Cam lowered himself beside her. — Lisa Kleypas

For the first stretch of road Olivia's eyes were sealed shut, her breath held hostage in her lungs.
"You might want to open your eyes," Wesley called back knowingly, his muffled voice breaking through both of their helmets. "And don't forget to breathe. — Shawn Kirsten Maravel

On an impulse he went into the room and stood before the window, pushing aside the sheer curtain to watch the snow, now nearly eight inches high on the lampposts and the fences and the roofs. It was the sort of storm that rarely happened in Lexington, and the steady white flakes, the silence, filled him with a sense of excitement and peace. It was a moment when all the disparate shards of his life seemed to knit themselves together, every past sadness and disappointment, every anxious secret and uncertainty hidden now beneath the soft white layers. Tomorrow would be quiet, the world subdued and fragile, until the neighborhood children came out to break the stillness with their tracks and shouts and joy. He remembered such days from his own childhood in the mountains, rare moments of escape when he went into the woods, his breathing amplified and his voice somehow muffled by the heavy snow that bent branches low, drifted over paths. The world, for a few short hours, transformed. — Kim Edwards

I'm getting my ass kicked by tiny faeries!" I shouted back, fumbling to start the car. "They've got my freaking number!"

"Run away!" Bob giggled. "Run away! Tiny faeries!"

growled in frustration and popped the Redcap's hat down over Bob. "Stop being a jerk. This is serious."

Bob's voice was only barely muffled. It sounded like he couldn't breathe. "Serious! Tiny! Faeries! The m-m- mighty wizard Dresden! — Jim Butcher

Adam spoke up, voice half-muffled from the mud. I made a deal with you, Cabeswater. I'm your hands and your eyes. What do you think I'll see if he dies? — Maggie Stiefvater

Seth hustled over. "What's the password?"
"Passwords are for sissies," Warren's muffled voice responded.
"Works for me," Seth said, unlocking the door and opening it. — Brandon Mull

How can you seem so normal?" she said. "Knowing what we know." Her voice was muffled by her folded arms. "What, that we're caught in a death trap?" Shay glanced up at Marco like he'd bitten her. He decided to holster his usual mode of response. He wanted to talk to this girl. — Dayna Lorentz

I'm all dressed in my new clothes," Luis's proud but muffled voice comes through the pillow. "The nenas won't be able to resist this Latino stud."
"Good for you," I mumble.
"Mama said I should pour this pitcher of water on you if you don't get up."
Was privacy too much to ask for? I take my pillow and chuck it across the room. It's a direct hit. The water splashes all over him.
" Culero! " he screams at me. "These are the only new clothes I got. — Simone Elkeles

I couldn't believe his arrogance. I turned away hoping to ignore him enough so he'd just leave.
"Just give me five minutes," came Flynn's muffled voice through the closed window.
I ignored him. He'd caused me way too much trouble.
"Mercy, just crack the window so we can talk."
I did and immediately said, "You are a solipsistic obdurate asshole." Then I rolled the window back up to continue to ignore him.
"What the hell? You and these words," he muttered loud enough they came clearly through the closed window. — Shannon Dermott

I hate you," I say, the sentiment muffled against his heart, hoping to make it true.
"And I love you," he answers without hesitation, voice resolved and raw as he holds me tighter so I can't break away and react. "A crossroads, my beautiful princess, that was unavoidable - given our situations. — A.G. Howard

Zack stood, and Ace pulled him back to the bed. Zack landed with an oomph. "Sorry." Ace tried to be gentle as he pushed Zack to lie straight, the way he'd suggested. "What the fuck?" Zack's voice was muffled by the pillow Ace shoved under his face. "Just relax and enjoy. I'm not coming on to you, for Christ's sake. I'm just trying to be nice. Accept it," he barked, his glare fading when he felt Zack chuckle. "Ass." Zack sighed and settled into the bed.

-Ace & Zack — Marie Harte

I just proposed to Isabelle," (Simon) announced.
Beatriz screamed with excitement. Some of the students, fearing a demon attack, also screamed. One of them fell off a rafter and thumped to the ground on a training mat. Clary burst into happy tears and threw her arms around Simon.
Jace lay down on the floor, arms thrown wide. "We're going to be family," he said glumly. "You and me, Simon, we're going to be brothers. People will think we're related."
"No one will think that," Simon said, his voice muffled against Clary's hair. — Cassandra Clare

The voice of our original self is often muffled, overwhelmed, even strangled, by the voices of other people's expectations. — Julia Cameron

I would have stolen it for you, had I known you were interested." His voice was muffled by the door to the lumber room down the hallway, and I heard thumps and a crash.
I raised my voice a trifle more than mere volume required. "I'm interested because she was. Both of them, come to that
Damian's art is infused with mystic symbols and traditions."
Holmes' voice answered two inches away from my ear, making me jerk and spray a handful of maps across the floor. "Religion can be a dangerous thing, it is true," he remarked darkly, and went out again. — Laurie R. King

I can't see anything" he said in a muffled voice, hand over his eyes. "I'm blind. — L.J.Smith

And yours? What is your opinion? Truly?" She turned to face me, her green eyes brilliant in the lamplight. "Would it matter?"
"No. I love him and, damn the world, I will have him."
She grinned. "Good girl. And since my opinion doesn't matter, I give it freely: Brisbane is worth twenty Marches and dearer to me than most of my own brothers. If you do not marry him, I will do so myself, simply to keep him in the family."
I turned away quickly. "Are you weeping?" she asked.
"Don't be absurd." My voice was muffled and I swallowed, blinking furiously. "I have a cinder in my eye." Portia dropped a swift kiss to my cheek. "Happiness is within your grasp now, pet. Hang onto it, and do not let it go, whatever you do. — Deanna Raybourn

Deep within our souls we know that God exists and that He has given His law to us. We seek to suppress this knowledge in order to escape God's commands. But no matter how hard we try, we cannot silence this inner voice. It can be muffled but not destroyed. — R.C. Sproul

I was just beginning to relax when the radio crackled to life, and nearly gave me a heart attack.
"I see something, I see something!" Maddy was screaming and sounded terrified. "I see something moving!"
There was a weird, muffled sound, and then Skylar's voice came on. "Please disregard that emergency broadcast. Madeline has just seen her first cow. — V.L. Dreyer

I don't know how to talk to people anymore." Her voice sounded muffled, as if she were wiping her nose. "Yeah, I noticed. You're like a walking Internet comment, just spewing whatever pops off the top of your head. You can't do that with people in real life. — Emma Scott

A superb tenor voice, like a silver trumpet muffled in silk. — Alec Guinness

I hate to break it to you," he said, "but this time a pair of sunglasses isn't going to cut it. People are probably going to know you've been crying."
"I thought you were dead," she told him, her voice muffled, her face buried in his shirt. "When those bullets hit you, I thought . . . I thought . . ."
"Yeah, I know," Harry said, stroking her hair. His heart was in his throat. Was it possible she really cared that much? "I know you pretty well by now, Al. You thought, 'Oh, fuck, the dumb son of a bitch is dead. Now who are they going to send to annoy the crap out of me? — Suzanne Brockmann

As soon as the doors were closed, Amelia went to her sister with her hands raised. At first Cam thought she intended to shake her, but instead Amelia pulled Beatrix close, her shoulders trembling. She could barely breathe for laughing.
"Bea ... you did it on purpose, didn't you? ... I couldn't believe my eyes ... that blasted lizard running along the table ... "
"I had to do something," the girl explained in a muffled voice. "Leo was behaving badly - I didn't understand what he was saying, but I saw Lord Westcliff's face - "
"Oh ... oh ... " Amelia choked with giggles. "Poor Westcliff ... one moment he's def-fending the local population from Leo's tyranny, and then Spot comes s-slithering past the bread plates ... "
"Where is Spot?" Twisting away from her sister, Beatrix approached Cam, who deposited the lizard in her outstretched palms. "Thank you, Mr. Rohan. You have very quick hands."
"So I've been told." He smiled at her. — Lisa Kleypas

There was someone in his little attic room. Geralt knew it before he even reached the door, sensing it through the barely perceptible vibration of his medallion. He blew out the oil lamp which had lit his path up the stairs, pulled the dagger from his boot, slipped it into the back of his belt and pressed the door handle. The room was dark. But not for a witcher. He was deliberately slow in crossing the threshold; he closed the door behind him carefully. The next second he dived at the person sitting on his bed, crushed them into the linen, forced his forearm under their chin and reached for his dagger. He didn't pull it out. Something wasn't right. "Not a bad start," she said in a muffled voice, lying motionless beneath him. "I expected something like this, but I didn't think we'd both be in bed so quickly. Take your hand from my throat please." "It's — Andrzej Sapkowski

My lord! We thought you were
taking an afternoon nap!"
"Sorry to disappoint you," the earl of Sheffield drawled, his voice muffled by the rug. "Someone must
have forgotten to tuck me into my cradle. — Teresa Medeiros

Is anything going to kill me if I use your bathroom?" I finally asked.
"Knowing you?" Pritkin's voice was muffled since he hadn't raised his head.
I frowned. "Is that a yes?"
A couple of fingers came up to massage his temple. "That is a no. Assuming you didn't bring anything deadly along with you. — Karen Chance

He felt something move in his chest, as though an organ had been removed and something unfamiliar left in its place. A sentiment he had never suspected the existence of bloomed in him. It traveled from his chest along his veins to every limb. It swelled in his head, muffled his ears, stilled his voice, and collected in his feet and fingers. Having no language for it, he remained silent, but felt it root, become permanent. — Diane Setterfield

hate work." Her voice is muffled. "Everyone hates work." My lips twitch. "That's why they have to pay us to show up." Cyndi mumbles a reply, her words inaudible. If she's at the I-hate-work stage of her morning routine, she'll be in her bedroom for another half an hour. I can't wait for her. "I — Cynthia Sax

What is she to you?" she whispers. The real question and I know the answer even if I don't know how to say it. Drew's muffled voice rises up from the floor before I can respond. "Family," he says. And he's right. — Katja Millay

When others witness or comment on abusive behaviors, the little voice that the upscale abused wife once heard inside her and ignored or muffled becomes amplified. Slowly she starts to recognize that she must stop enduring the abuse. . . . each woman comes to grips with her situation at her own pace. However, talking to others is key to her growing capacity to recognize and label her experiences, reclaim herself, target important turning points, and ultimately leave her tormentor. — Susan Weitzman

Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:
maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
a cracked bell, or a torn heart.
Something from far off: it seemed
deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
a shout muffled by huge autumns,
by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves.
Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
climbed up through my conscious mind
as if suddenly the roots I had left behind
cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood - -
and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent. — Pablo Neruda

Parents just don't understand," I said into the blanket, my voice muffled. "What?" she asked. I rolled over and gave her a weak smile. "Will Smith was onto something. — Karina Halle

Wow,Cal," I said, feeling a little bit like myself for the first time since I'd walked into this crazy house. "You will be able to have some awesome slumber parties in here.All of the other girls are gonna be so jealous."
Cal shot me a half smile, and I felt some of the weird-ness between us dissipate. "It's not so bad," he said. Then he flopped down on the bed, only to sink out of sight in the middle of it. As Cal drowned in a sea of fluffy coverlets and throw pillows, I couldn't help but crack up.
Lara looked offended. "That bed originally belonged to the third Duke of Cornwall."
"It's great," Cal said, his voice muffled. He gave her the thumbs-up, which only made me and Jenna laugh harder. — Rachel Hawkins

So, I was looking through websites about animal sacrifice on the Internet," Kami announced to distract herself. "Apparently it's a feature in Satanic rituals."
"Wow," Rusty remarked, his voice slightly muffled. "I sure hope this conversation continues over dinner."
"Wait," Angela said, expertly twisting Rusty's arm. "I thought we were dealing with kids? Are we talking about twelve-year-old Satanists?" She paused. "Actually, that makes a lot of sense. I suspect those kids from the cricket club. — Sarah Rees Brennan

Speaking of names and all-time favorite romances, Bailey told me you write under a pen name. I've been really curious about that."
Fern groaned loudly. She shook her fist toward Bailey's house. "Curse your big mouth, Bailey Sheen" She looked at Ambrose with trepidation. "You are going to think I'm some stalker chick. That I'm totally obsessed. But you have to remember that I came up with this alter ego when I was sixteen and I was a bit obsessed. Okay, I'm still a bit obsessed."
"With what?" Ambrose was confused.
"With you," Fern's response was muffled as she buried her forehead in his chest, but Ambrose still heard her. He laughed and forced her chin up so he could see her face. "I still don't understand what that has to do with your pen name."
Fern sighed. "It's Amber Rose."
"Ambrose?"
"Amber Rose," Fern corrected.
"Amber Rose?" Ambrose sputtered.
"Yes," Fern said in a very, very small voice. And Ambrose laughed for a very, very long time. — Amy Harmon

You thought I was peculiar," she said in a muffled voice.
His mouth brushed the edge of her ear and settled against her neck. She felt that he was smiling. "Darling love ... you are. — Lisa Kleypas

Damn it, woman," he snapped. "Stop crying. Are you hysterical?"
"Maybe." Her voice was muffled by the pillow and her hands.

-Maxim & Airiana — Christine Feehan

And then you grew up, went to school, and began to 'philosophize,' didn't you? We all go through the same thing. It seems that during adolescence a person's inner life is suddenly weakened, stripped of its natural courage. In his thinking he no longer dares stand face to face with reality or mystery; he begins to see them through the opinions of 'grown-ups,' through books and courses and professors. Still, a voice remains which is not completely muffled and which cries out every so often - every time its gag is loosened by an unexpected jolt in the routine. The voice cries out its great questioning of everything, but we stifle it again right away. — Rene Daumal

Then I'm afraid we'll have to lose our common ground." Flashing his fangs,he lunged forward.I drew my arm back and punched him full in the face.
"Ow!" we screamed in unison as he clutched his nose and I shook my poor, poor hand.Why didn't anyone ever tell me punching faces hurts?
"You hit me!"
"You were trying to bite me!"
We glared at each other,intensity somewhat diminished by the hand he still held to his nose. "So what now?" he asked,smooth voice muffled.
"I haven't thought that far ahead yet. — Kiersten White

sheets, I keep hearing something - or someone - calling, just loud enough to pierce the walls. The voice is surely something more than wind, curling and twisting itself into highs and lows, like muffled music. I know that if only I could lean closer, words would become clear, distinct. Words that wouldn't break apart before I can wrap my mind around them. — Victoria Schwab

In this transparency, the footprints of the little birds spoke with a muffled voice. What they spoke of was entirely without significance, or else something capable of lifting a life off its hinges: there was no way of knowing. — Alessandro Baricco

He's got gas," Aaron explained, his voice muffled by the hand still over his face. "It happens when he eats stuff he's not supposed to."
"It's vile," Camael said, glaring at the dog. "Something should be done so that it never happens again. — Thomas E. Sniegoski

Jace set what he was holding down on the windowsill and reached out to her. She came to lean against him, and his hand slid up under her t-shirt and rested caressingly, possessively, on the small of her back. He bent to kiss her, gently at first, but the gentleness went quickly and soon she was pressed up against the glass of the window, his hands at the hem of her shirt - his shirt
"Jace." She moved a little bit away. "I'm pretty sure people down there in the street can see us."
"We could ... " He gestured toward the bed. "Move ... over there."
She grinned. "You said that like it took you a while to come up with the idea."
When he spoke, his voice was muffled against her neck. "What can I say, you make my thought processes slow down. Now I know what it's like to be a normal person."
"How ... is it?" The things he was doing with his hands under the t-shirt were distracting.
"Terrible. I'm already way behind on my quota of witty comments for the day. — Cassandra Clare

Noah, his voice muffled, said, "Sometimes I pretend I'm like him."
"What part?"
He considered. "Alive. — Maggie Stiefvater