Voice And Choice Quotes & Sayings
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Top Voice And Choice Quotes

Don't tell me you don't wonder, don't th - " "I fucking don't!" He grabbed her upper arms, held her in place, the raw fury in his voice a wild thing. "I made my choice, and I chose you. Don't you do this. Don't you destroy us. — Nalini Singh

Standing there at Powell's grave, telling my nephew about a buried skull, I realize how much of our relationship revolves around body parts and severed heads. Once Owen learned to walk, we started playing a game I call Frankenstein, in which I am Frankenstein's monster and I chase him around trying to harvest his organs and appendages because my master is building another boy. "Frankenstein needs your spleen," I yell, aping the voice of an announcer at a monster truck rally. "Give me your spleen!" Which is why the seemingly gross book I gave him for his birthday, a collection of poetry for children called The Blood-Hungry Spleen was actually a sentimental choice, even though my sister tells me it didn't go over so well when he brought it to preschool. — Sarah Vowell

Kitten." His voice was thick with something I couldn't name. "This is the part ... where you don't have a choice. — Jeaniene Frost

You must understand that by this time the only choice was among several varieties of defeat, but the town in question rejected compromise and would settle for nothing but victory. That was not reason talking; that was the voice of litost! — Milan Kundera

Choice
I needed it like I needed air.
Bit no one could hear me.
No one could listen.
No words. No sound.
No voice.
I couldn't even dream myself away.
Choices were made.
None of them mine.
At first I wondered if it was hell.
And then I knew it was. — Mary E. Pearson

I let Richard walk out on me. I think he'd have gone anyway, but I just sat on the floor and watched him go. I didn't stand in his way. I figured it was his choice, and you cant hold someone if they don't want to be held. If someone really wants to be free of you, you have to let them go. Well, fuck that, fuck that all to hell. Don't go, Asher, please, don't go. I love the way your hair shines in the light. I love that way you smile when you're not trying to hide or impress anyone. I love your laughter. I love the way your voice can hold sorrow like the taste of rain. I love the way you watch Jean-Claude when he moves through a room, when you don't think anyone's watching, because its exactly the way I watch him. I love your eyes. I love your pain. I love you. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Oh all the times I've listened, and all the times I've heard All the melodies I'm missing, and all the magic words, And all those potent voices, and the choices we had then, How I'd love to find we had that kind of choice again. — Harry Chapin

What do you call sneaking out before the sun comes up?"
"Punctual," she decided. "I had things to do."
"We had things to do."
Heat settled low in her belly. "Did we? I don't recall you making an appointment."
"Keep running that mouth, hustler," he rasped beside her ear, making her shiver. "I've been impatient to fuck you for days. If you keep taunting me, I'll have no choice but to assume you want it as rough and dirty as I can give it. And, baby?" He nipped her ear. "I saw the way your back arched and your thighs squeezed together when you heard my voice behind you. I know how bad you want it. — Tessa Bailey

He holds my gaze, and the look in his eyes is a love letter in itself. When he speaks, his voice is rough. "Will you marry me, Cate?"
I go still, the question hanging in the air. I have never felt more accepted 'for the girl I am, not the girl I want to be' never more loved and respected than I am in this moment. It's a choice, and it's mine to make.
"Yes," I breathe.
Finn slides the simple gold band onto my ring finger. I tilt it, and the ruby sparkles, catching the sunlight. He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, sealing the promise. 'I can't wait to make you my wife.'
'Cate Belastra.' I try it out and despite the solemnity of the moment, despite knowing what this will cost him, I can't help smiling. — Jessica Spotswood

I close my eyes and lean into him. I think my body makes the choice for me, because my mind has certainly lost all control. I press my face against his neck and listen quietly as our breaths fail to slow. The longer we stand here and the more he says, the heavier our need grows. I can feel it in the way he holds me. I can hear it in the desperate plea of his voice. I can feel it with every rise and fall of his chest. — Colleen Hoover

I shall set forth for somewhere, I shall make the reckless choice Some say when they are in voice And tossing so as to scare The white clouds over them on, I shall have less to say, But I shall be none. — Robert Frost

In every moment God expresses Himself in, as, and through you. Built into you is an internal guidance system that shows you the way home. This is the voice that speaks to you always of your highest choice, that places before you your grandest vision. — Neale Donald Walsch

But how? How can you just get over these things, darling? ... You've had so much strife but you're always happy. How do you do it?'
'I choose to ... I can leave myself to rot in the past, spend my time hating people for what happened, like my father did, or I can forgive and forget.'
'But it's not that easy.'
He smiled that Frank smile. 'Oh, but my treasure, it is so much less exhausting. You only have to forgive once. To resent, you have to do it all day, every day. You have to keep remembering all the bad things ... I would have to make a list, a very, very long list and make sure I hated the people on it the right amount. That I did a proper job of hating, too: very Teutonic! No' - his voice became sober- 'we always have a choice. All of us.' p.323 — M.L. Stedman

It would be something fine if we could learn how to bless the lives of children. They are the people of new life. Children are the only people nobody can blame. They are the only ones always willing to make a start; they have no choice. Children are the ways the world begin again and again.
"But in general, our children have no voice
that we will listen to. We force, we blank them into the bugle/bell regulated lineup of the Army/school, and we insist on silence.
"But even if we cannot learn to bless their lives (our future times), at least we can try to find out how we already curse and burden their experience: how we limit the wheeling of their inner eyes, how we terrify their trust, and how we condemn the raucous laughter of their natural love. What's more, if we will hear them, they will teach us what they need; they will bluntly formulate the tenderness of their deserving. — June Jordan

And then what are your plans?"
Annwyl frowned. "My plans?"
"Yes. Your plans. You take your brother's head, your troops are waiting. What is the next thing that you do?"
Annwyl just stared at him. He realized in that instant that the girl had no plans. None. No grand schemes of controlling the world. No plots to destroy any other empires. Not even the plan to have a celebratory dinner.
"Annwyl, you'll be queen. You'll have to do something."
"But I don't want to be queen." Her body shook with panic, and he could hear it in her voice.
"You take his head, you'll have little choice."
"What the hell am I supposed to do as queen?"
"Well .you could try ruling."
"That sounds awfully complicated. — G.A. Aiken

May our daily choices be a reflection of our deepest values, and may we use our voices to speak for those who need us most, those who have no voice, those who have no choice. — Colleen Patrick-Goudreau

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

What have you to trade for my silence?" ...
He opened his mouth to beckon the men, but Eleri moved like lightning. With her right arm restrained, she couldn't cut him. However, her weapon of choice caught him completely off-guard.
Her lips sealed to his, cutting off his voice in a hard kiss...
Bracing his back against the gnarled tree branches, he relaxed for more, but the kiss ended as briskly as it had begun....
Blood surging through his body, Warren grinned and lowered his face over hers. "Not the price I had in mind, but...um, shall we see what else you have to offer? — Sandra Jones

Then read from the treasured volume the poem of thy choice, and lend to the rhyme of the poet the beauty of thy voice. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I. At Tea
THE kettle descants in a cosy drone,
And the young wife looks in her husband's face,
And then in her guest's, and shows in her own
Her sense that she fills an envied place;
And the visiting lady is all abloom,
And says there was never so sweet a room.
And the happy young housewife does not know
That the woman beside her was his first choice,
Till the fates ordained it could not be so ...
Betraying nothing in look or voice
The guest sits smiling and sips her tea,
And he throws her a stray glance yearningly. — Thomas Hardy

He had never talked to her this way before, his soft voice underlaid with with steel. Amanda had no choice but to believe him. She wanted to rail and scream, her frustration escalating to an unbearable pitch. To her utter self-disgust, she found herself near tears, like the witless heroines of the sensation novels she had always enjoyed making jest of. Her mouth trembled as she struggled to control her explosive emotions.
Jack saw that sign of weakness, and something in his face relaxed. "Don't cry. There is no need for tears, mhuirnin," he said in a gentler tone. — Lisa Kleypas

The storyteller makes no choice, soon you will not hear his voice, his job is to shed light, and not to master — Robert Hunter

Should I go to graduate school? What if I made the wrong choice? These questions arise not because there is no pat but because we expect there to be a single one. Uncertainty should invite curiosity and reflection, but instead it generates fear.
Learn to accept uncertainty as an important step to true self-discovery. To start finding your path, begin listening to that inner voice. Tap into what you think and feel, what you truly care about. Don't worry about finding your passion and life's calling immediately. Those usually takes time. But do avoid becoming a passenger in your own life. — Rachel Simmons

Seth laughed when he saw me.
"Hey," I said, poking him with my foot, "be nice."
"I think this is the first time I've ever seen you look anything less than ... " He paused, playing with word choice. "Well-planned."
"Why, you silver-tongued romantic devil. That is the look I usually go for. Other women go for sexy or chic or beautiful. But me? Well-planned all the way."
"You know what I mean. Besides, unplanned isn't a bad look for you. Not bad at all."
His voice sounded deliciously low and dangerous, and something ignited between us as we held each other's eyes. — Richelle Mead

Everyone has choice when to and not to raise their voices: It's you who decides. — George Harrison

Those of us who are in tune with nature and animals know it is our way of life, Bram. There is a connection to all living things, a vibration of Life. Animals were not given a power of choice. A lion does not try and eat legumes, nor an elephant meat. We believe the best way to communicate with nature, God, is through a liaison: the animals ... Nature hears one voice and obeys it. That is why ten or ten thousand birds may rise from the surface of a lake at the same time and yet never touch one another. Man only hears his own voice. He constantly bumps into another. Even his voice mirrors his erratic walk, jealousy, hate, ego, pride, lying, cheating. He makes his own judgements and falls prey to his greed. Remember, the moon is reflected on one drop of water as is the entire ocean
so it is with God. He is reflected ins each living thing
in a grain of sand as the entire shore, one star as the whole universe. Each animal as in all creatures. -Jagrat — Ralph Helfer

Envoi
we had no voice
we had no name
we had no choice
we had one face
one face the same
we took the blame
it was no fair
but now w're here
we're all here too
the same as you
and now we follow
you, we find you
now, we call
to you to you
too wit too woo
too wit too woo
too woo
(The Maids sprout feathers, and fly away as owls.) — Margaret Atwood

He smiled that Frank smile. "Oh, but my treasure, it is so much less exhausting. You only have to forgive once. To resent, you have to do it all day, every day. You have to keep remembering all the bad things." He laughed, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. "I would have to make a list, a very, very long list and make sure I hated the people on it the right amount. That I did a very proper job of hating, too: very Teutonic! No" - his voice became sober - "we always have a choice. All of us. — M.L. Stedman

Whether you are five years old and irresistibly drawn to the piano in your home, or you are an adult who suddenly falls in love with music and decides to take lessons, the knowledge that you belong in the world of music is deep and indestructible. It is part of your basic nature, as much as the color of your eyes or the sound of your voice. Even your choice of instrument might feel choiceless; you hear a piano or a cello and somehow know that that is the instrument you must play. — Madeline Bruser

All I have is a voice to undo the folded lie, the romantic lie in the brain of the sensual man-in-the-street and the lie of Authority whose buildings grope the sky: There is no such thing as the State and no one exists alone; Hunger allows no choice to the citizen or the police; We must love one another or die. — W. H. Auden

Inside us all are pieces of that which makes the neagitve. Demons are neither good nor bad. Like you, they have many facets. It is that inner essence, or drive, if you will, that we all have that guides us through our lives. Sometimes those voices that drive us are whispered memories that live deep inside and cause us such pain that we have no choice except to let it out and to hurt those around us. But at other times, the voice is love and compassion, and it guides us to a gentler place. In the end, we, alone, must choose what path to walk. No one can help us with it. (Menyara) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Life is risk. I could get cancer. Or get hit by a car. You could wrap me in bubble wrap and keep me indoors and I could still get sick. I know that I could lose you too. And as much as I don't want to say it, someday you're going to die."
Her voice broke on the last word. "But I choose to love you now and I choose to build a life with you knowing I could lose you. I'm asking you to make that same choice. I'm asking you to take the risk, with me. — Sylvain Reynard

And so it was I entered the broken world
To trace the visionary company of love, its voice
An instant in the wind (I know not whither hurled)
But not for long to hold each desperate choice. — Hart Crane

Benny and Bjorn, I suppose, already had an idea of which one was going to sing the lead. I mean, they knew perfectly well our ranges and which kind of voice they wanted on a specific song. And sometimes, I envied the choice of Agnetha, I must admit. — Anni-Frid Lyngstad

She stared at me "You have a message," she said. "On you machine."
I looked over at my answering machine. Sure enough, the light was blinking. The woman really was a detective.
"It's some girl," La Guerta said. "She sounds kind of sleepy and happy. You got a girlfriend, Dexter?" there was a strange hint of a challenge in her voice.
"You know how it is," I said. "Women today are so forward, and when you are as handsome as I am they absolutely fling themselves at your head." Perhaps an unfortunate choice of words; as I said it I couldn't help thinking of the woman's head flung at me not so long ago.
"Watch out," La Guerta said. "Sooner or later one of them will stick." I had no idea what she thought that meant, but it was a very unsettling image.
"I'm sure you're right," I said. "Until then, carpe diem."
"What?"
"It's Latin," I said. "It means, complain in the daylight. — Jeff Lindsay

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

She laid her heart and soul right in your hands
And you stole her every dream and crushed her plans
She never even knew she had a choice
And that's what happens when the only voice she hears is telling her she can't
You stupid boy — Keith Urban

Whenever you are willing to obey me, Much-Afraid, and to follow the path of my choice, you will always be able to hear and recognize my voice, and when you hear it you must always obey. Remember also that it is always safe to obey my voice, even if it seems to call you to paths which look impossible or even crazy. — Hannah Hurnard

For he will speak peace to his people. . . . psalm 85:8 Peace is a language. To "speak peace" is very different from speaking of peace. To speak of peace is to reason about it. But to speak peace is to impart it. The promise in this psalm is that God will make peace with us and among us. But the phrase also serves as a reminder that our words are acts. When we speak, we may stir up animosities, suspicions, jealousies, or old hurts - or we may impart peace. Peace may be "uttered" not only in gentleness of voice when we speak, but in the choice of words that reframe, redirect, or surprise us into reconsidering. Sometimes a way of describing the problem or conflict as an opportunity for invention or imagination or learning can enable those who are stuck in a point of view to see a new way. — Marilyn Chandler McEntyre

All that guides me is fear,
And all that finds me is loss
Death defines which paths I cross
It is within the shadows that I stumble
And I am desperate without a voice
Here I am threatened by the resolve that you are
my soul
But if my lies are the path that I have to wander
because there is no choice
Will you love me still?
In the darkness of the night when I wish to do
nothing more than take flight?
Will you hold me to this plane and ease the
suffering and pain?
When all you know is the truth
And all they see is the lies
Will I be the one you find, or the one you leave
behind?
Alone may be the only home I shall find — Cassandra Giovanni

Choosing with integrity means finding ways to speak up that honor your reality, the reality of others, and your willingness to meet in the center of that large field. It's hard sometimes. — Terry Tempest Williams

A window within the soul to see
Light and Magick I send with thee
Be strong, be brave, make the right choice
Though Darkness shouts with a terrible voice
Know that I am watching from above
And that always, always, the answer is love! — P.C. Cast

When we are out of alignment with Christ we forget that we are children of God with divine destinies. We think with shriveled minds and operate with shriveled spirits. We settle for less than God wants to give us. We take a job that feels wrong. We enter a relationship that doesn't' feel right. We get stressed and anxious when reality doesn't match the images we have of the way things are supposed to be. We see failure as dead-ends instead of turn-around roads. There is no ease, no anointing as we move from one uneasy choice to another. That's when it's time to stop, breathe, and trust that our Highest Power is willing and able to set us right again. No matter what that voice inside your head says, you can always, always start again. — Toni Sorenson

Nothing is lost that cannot be refound" she says in a voice infused with otherworldly authority "this is the Dark Goddess's promise to guide you back to your deepest self and soul. If you choose this Sarah, so will it be. — Karen Clark

Mr. Walsh?" a woman's voice said. "Can I get a comment, Mr. Walsh?"
"That's not about me, is it?" I said.
"No, my client. He's on trial for killing his business partner and dissolving him in quicklime. Which is ridiculous."
"Uh-huh."
"It is. Anyone in my client's line of work knows that quicklime is a very poor solvent. Chemical hydrolysis is the method of choice these days. — Kelley Armstrong

I choose many voices to consider and reckon with, rather than just one to tolerate. — T.F. Hodge

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

During my New York run, I injured my voice badly. I was getting increasingly hoarse, and it finally gave up. The doctor said I had two choices. Either cancel things, or try my luck and perhaps never speak again. That's not much of a choice. — Trevor Noah

Read to your children Twenty minutes a day; You have the time, And so do they. Read while the laundry is in the machine; Read while the dinner cooks; Tuck a child in the crook of your arm And reach for the library books. Hide the remote, Let the computer games cool, For one day your children will be off to school; Remedial? Gifted? You have the choice; Let them hear their first tales In the sound of your voice. Read in the morning; Read over noon; Read by the light of Goodnight Moon. Turn the pages together, Sitting close as you'll fit, Till a small voice beside you says, Hey, don't quit. — Richard Peck

You haven't forgiven me, Lazarus."
He remained silent.
"What did you expect me to do?"
"Tell us, dammit! I would have gone with you."
"Of course you would have, Lazarus. But I thought I was going to die. Why would I ask anyone to follow me there?"
"Because it's my job!" he roared, and his voice seemed to shake the timbers of the tiny space. "It's what I signed on for! The choice was mine, not yours! — Erika Johansen

There were streetlights here, but they were so far apart and surrounded by trees that light dropped away to solid black between them. The skin on the back of his neck crawled as he became aware of the darkness. He didn't usually walk around after nightfall, but tonight he'd had no choice without his car. The wind lifted his hair, leaving him shivering; a voice in his mind chattered nervously.
There was someone in my yard the other night... — Danika Stone

What's coming out of the stereo is like a genre unto itself, a charming, fucked-up fairy tale that immediately breaks my heart in all the best ways.
I stretch out on the floor with my ear parked next to the speaker, in a trance. I place the album cover over my face to block out any interruption as "I'll Be Your Mirror" seduces me. I immediately add the song to my mental list of top ten songs ever.
And as I'm bobbing my head with dreamy abandon, I hear a voice. "Nice choice, DJ," it says.
I slowly slide the album cover down past my eyes and look up. My eyes spy his shoes first
paint-splattered brogues. My heart stops when I look at his face. Pale skin, messy black hair, emerald eyes ... Senor Smolder! He's eighteen, maybe nineteen. And no, my imagination didn't lie, he is just as devastating now as he was the first time I saw him. Only even more, because he just complimented my taste in music. — Shauna Cross

Loving you is not a choice,
It's who I am.
Loving you is not a choice
And not much reason to rejoice,
But it gives me purpose
Gives me voice to say to the world:
This is why I live
You are why I live.
Loving you is why I do
The things I do
Loving you is not in my control.
But loving you, I have a goal
For what's left of my life ...
I would live,
And I would die for you. — Stephen Sondheim

Sol, listen," came the Voice, modulated now so it did not boom from far above but almost whispered in his ear, "the future of humankind depends upon your choice. Can you offer Rachel out of love, if not obedience?" Sol heard the answer in his mind even as he groped for the words. There would be no more offerings. Not this day. Not any day. Humankind had suffered enough for its love of gods, its long search for God. He thought of the many centuries in which his people, the Jews, had negotiated with God, complaining, bickering, decrying the unfairness of things but always - always - returning to obedience at whatever the cost. Generations dying in the ovens of hatred. Future generations scarred by the cold fires of radiation and renewed hatred. Not this time. Not ever again. — Dan Simmons

What are you, fire refusing to be named? I will tell you what you are not.
You are not an afterthought.
You are not a magic lamp whose only purpose is to fulfill the desires of another. You are not an oracle or a muse that can be used, exhausted, tapped dry and left convulsing on a mountaintop. You are not a lonely night or a place to hide secrets when no one else is watching. You are not a bodiless voice that whispers comfort to the demons of desperate men, not a vessel from which they can thieve their vitality.
& my god, you are certainly not a second choice. — Amanda Torroni

Albert Camus, a great humanist and existentialist voice, pointed out that to commit to a just cause with no hope of success is absurd. But then, he also noted that not committing to a just cause is equally absurd. But only one choice offers the possibility for dignity. And dignity matters. Dignity matters. — David Simon

You put up with your voice and speak with it because you haven't any choice. But it's what you say that counts. — John Fowles

You will be the first test subject, Tobias. Beatrice, however ... " She smiles. "You are too injured to be of much use to me, so your execution will occur at the conclusion of this meeting."
I try to hide the shudder that goes through me at the word "execution," my shoulder screaming with pain, and look up at Tobias. It's hard to blink tears back when I see the terror in Tobias's wide, dark eyes.
"No," says Tobias. His voice trembles, but his look stern as he shakes his head. "I would rather die."
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice in that matter," replies Jeanine lightly.
Tobias takes my face in this hands roughly and kisses me, the pressure of his lips pushing mine apart. I forget my pain and the terror of approaching death and for a moment, I am grateful that the memory of that kiss will be fresh in my mind as I meet my end. — Veronica Roth

What do you know of gods and saints?" I ask, filling my voice with scorn.
His fingers drift to the silver oak leaf of Saint Camulos on his cloak. "I know that what our saints want is not always made clear to us. Sometimes, it is their wish for us to flail and struggle and come to our own choices, not accept ones that have been made for us. — Robin LaFevers

Now it's been fifteen years, nine games, and an enormous blast to undertake. If it were my choice, I would do this role forever. To hear anyone else's voice coming from Snake's battered throat, makes me a little ill, to be honest. — David Hayter

And if I don't help you?"
Jace spread his hands wide. The rune tattoos on his palms stood out stark and black. "Maybe nothing. Maybe a visit from the Silent City."
Magnus's voice was honey poured over shards of ice. "That's quite a choice you're offering me, little Shadowhunter. — Cassandra Clare

And I watched the first man I ever kissed walk away from me forever. My heart full of nothing but regret, my brain full of nothing but reassurance that I was making the right choice, and my voice, completely void of any will to call him back. — Molli Fields

It's rather like your voice. You put up with your voice and speak with it because you haven't any choice. But it's what you say that counts. It's what distinguishes all great art from the other kind. — John Fowles

You pompous little bitch!" the infuriated Were shouted, red-faced and with his thugs backing him. "What are you doing here?"
Mrs. Sarong pushed past the men who had put themselves in front of her. "Arranging your removal," she said, her voice sharp and her eyes glaring. Removal? As if he were an overgrown tree clogging the sewer line?
The short businessman seemed to choke on his own breath, becoming choleric. Mouth gaping to look like one of his prize fish, he struggled to respond. "Like hell you are!" he finally managed. "That's what I wanted to talk to her about!"
From my shoulder came a small, "Holy crap, Rache. How did you become Cincy's assassin of choice? — Kim Harrison

To see the Law by Christ fulfilled,
And hear His pardoning voice
Changes a slave into a child,
And duty into choice. — William Cowper

When a writer with a voice as good as Richard Christian Matheson's tells you something, you have no choice but to listen. In THE RITUAL OF ILLUSION the voices are legion, and the gaps between their testimonies drag us closer to understanding the darkly beating heart of all our, ephemeral, transfixing dreams. Dark, subtle, horrifically funny. — Michael Marshall Smith

Now, Lily said, her burning voice bitter. Now you give me a choice. The ministar flared to life in her palm again. Thus do I choose, you son of a bitch. Knight of Winter, burn and die. — Jim Butcher

We pick and choose who to love. We pick and choose who to hate. We pick and choose our friends and ignore those that invade our space.
We pick and choose who should live. We pick and choose who should die. We pick and choose who we say hello to and ignore a dying loners cry.
We pick and choose who to be real to. We pick and choose to be fake to. We pick and choose who is worthy of our affections or beneath us or we can relate to.
We pick and choose our dreams. We pick and choose our destiny. We pick and choose what we think will bring out the best in me.
We pick and choose to reach the pinnacle. We pick and choose because of our power of choice. We sometimes pick and choose while never really considering the consequences of our voice. — Delaine Robins

It's hard t want to fit in and not be able to," his voice came barely above a whisper. "They make us feel like it's easier to lie than be truthful. Easier to hide than be seen. Make us feel like we did something wrong to not be like them. Like we made a conscious choice". — Dan Skinner

You heard what the little filth said to me," Ury growled. "He'll be trouble. I say trench him now."
The other man spoke, his voice low and even. "I heard him, Ury. His mind is quick, and his Greek is good." He knelt down beside my head. "Your choice, boy. Decide now. — Patrick Bowman

Emma convinced herself she'd lost him because she was fast. She was also adept at convincing herself of things that might not be - good at pretending. She could pretend she took classes at night by choice, and that blushing didn't make her thirsty
A vicious growl sounded. Her eyes widened, but she didn't turn back, just sprinted across the field. She felt claws sink into her anckle a second before she was dragged to the muddy ground and thrown onto her back. A hand covered her mouth, though she'd been trained not to scream.
"Never run from one such as me." Her attacker didn't sound human. "You will no' get away. And we like it." His voice was guttural like a beast's, breaking, yet his accent was ... Scottish? — Kresley Cole

You know, some people got no choice, and they can never find a voice, to talk with that they can even call their own. So the first thing that they see, that allows them the right to be, why they follow it, you know, it's called bad luck.. — Lou Reed

As the voices fall silent, the individuals who make up the amorphous and always changing community must decide for themselves, as they always have. I can't write a coda because I can't speak for others. I can only and ever speak for myself. — G.R. Reader

I told you you'd come," said a nearby voice, one Isobel knew well. "You said you would."
( ... )
"You shouldn't have, though," he said, and looked up, his face twisted with anger. "Even if we knew you would, you shouldn't have." He got up and began moving toward her.
"Why," he growled, "when we will only show you we are not worth it? Why, when we have no other choice but to prove to you we're not worth it? — Kelly Creagh

I am not saying I will vote against John Ashcroft because he is pro-life, .. But let me say if someone was nominated for attorney general who was vehemently pro choice
who in his or her career spent decades trying to find ways to expand the law abortion at nine months would be perfectly legal
wouldn't you be more upset and raise more of a voice than against a nominee who was simply pro-choice?. — Charles Schumer

I lost my voice and my best friend too
On swift, fierce winds and wings of blue,
The cold rain fell where beams had shone,
So I wrapped up tight and safe. Alone.
But I missed my friend, I missed my voice,
And my heart still whispered of another choice
To break out of my binding, safe, and warm,
And see what the world looked like after the storm.
So I struggled free and was greeted by
Colorful brushstrokes across the sky,
The melody of the summer breeze
And blue wings like mine in hazel trees.
On the soft, sweet air of the mountain glade,
We gathered together in cool, green shade,
And told our stories, beginnings to ends,
And found our song in the hearts of new friends. — Elaine Vickers

In the interests of friendship, I hope you'll forgive me what I'm about to do."
"Forgive you wha - "
My sentence was cut off as he clamped his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply.
...
"Ready to make a scene?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Do I have a choice?"
"Not really. To quote something someone said to me recently, in the interests of friendship, I hope you'll forgive what I'm about to do." I drew back my hand and slapped him across the face. The smack of flesh striking flesh echoed through the hall. Conversations stopped as people whipped around to stare at us. Raising my voice to something just below a shout, I snarled, "You asshole! — Seanan McGuire

I just wanted to keep consistent and keep true to America and not seem contrived. I didn't want to seem contrived at all with any song choice that might be a detriment to my journey on 'The Voice.' — Will Champlin

You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice. If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice. You can choose from phantom fears and kindness that can kill. I will choose a path thats clear. I will choose Freewill. — Neil Peart

I sat belonely
I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn't see at all.
I'm looking up and at the sky,
to find such wondrous voice.
Puzzly puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but have no choice.
'Speak up, come forth, you ravel me',
I potty menthol shout.
'I know you hiddy by this tree'.
But still she won't come out.
Such softly singing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.
Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it's might.
'I thought you were a lady'.
I giggle, - well I may,
To my suprise the lady,
got up - and flew away. — John Lennon

Women deserve better than propaganda and lies to get into panties. Propaganda and lies to get into office, to get out of court, to get out of paying child support. Get the fuck out of our decisions and give us back our voice. Women deserve better; women deserve choice. — Sonya Renee Taylor

were more of them around than there had been of the old Watch. No man would make a victim of her again. She leveled the gun at the stranger's chest. "I don't want to shoot you." Her voice was calm, even confident. In the past two and a half years, she'd learned to lie, to steal, and to brazen through the worst of situations. She'd had no other choice. — Erica Monroe

I didn't hear you," I spoke directly into his ear, hoping my voice was husky and alluring, but most likely wind-whipped and warbled.
"I said, when I kiss you, I want you to be completely wrapped up in my touch." He paused before adding, "The way you touched Nikolai last night wasn't something I wanted to see. It was hot and sexy, and I don't know where I stand." Slowing down, he muttered, "When I kiss you, I want to see desire blaze in your eyes. I want you to need me to kiss you so much you have no choice but to yield. — Jade Hart

I want a future abortion conversation known for its openness, respect and empathy, so instead of generating more heat, anger and conflict, I practice pro-voice. — Aspen Baker

They had taken away something very important from him when he'd been made helpless. It should've broken him, being forced into chains. Yet it hadn't. Even in her grief she was amazed. She framed his face with her hands, tilting it up so she could look in his eyes. "You survived. You endured and survived." His lips curved bitterly. "I had no choice." She shook her head. "There's always a choice. You could've given up, let them take your soul and mind, but you didn't. You persevered. I think you are the bravest man I have ever met." "I think, then, that you've not met many men," he whispered. His voice was light, but his face still held the years of tragedy. — Elizabeth Hoyt

To have to hear a woman's voice, and start to make a choice just based on that, is difficult. — Dean Cain

Eternal recurrence means that every time you choose an action you must be willing to choose it for all eternity. And it is the same for every action not made, every stillborn thought, every choice avoided. And all unlived life will remain bulging inside you, unlived through all eternity. And the unheeded voice of your conscience will cry out to you forever. — Irvin D. Yalom

The exorcist had a slightly Australian tinge to his voice, and the laid-back, whatever-comes-next attitude of a man who had suddenly realised two degrees short of a sunstroke that exorcism was the perfect career choice he'd never been offered in school. — Kate Griffin

I can't believe how many people don't have time to cook but have time to watch football and 'The Voice.' They're certainly making a choice. — Tom Douglas

Coming home to someone is many things. It is a literal action, an abstract idea, a physical feeling. It is more than the sound of the key turning in the door and the voice that calls from the porch. It is a choice, a promise, a declaration. It is a return, not as a person to a place, but as oneself to another. It is one person saying to another person: You are the one I choose. — Tania De Rozario

There is at least as much eloquence in the voice, eyes, and air of a speaker as in his choice of words. — Francois De La Rochefoucauld

They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship - " "Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice. "Right you are, Professor - just giving a bit of background information - the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and - " "Jordan!" "Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for goal ... — J.K. Rowling

Thought - he told himself quietly - is a weapon one uses in order to act. No action was possible. Thought is the tool by which one makes a choice. No choice was left to him. Thought sets one's purpose and the way to reach it. In the matter of his life being torn piece by piece out of him, he was to have no voice, no purpose, no way, no defense. — Ayn Rand

Who are you' is a question of both substance and position. In other words, what is the authority of your voice, service, product or performance in relation to the needs of those you intend to serve? Secondly, have you defined and demystified yourself enough to be accepted as the solution of choice? — Archibald Marwizi

Listen to 'The Voice', not the choice — T.F. Hodge

Cause I'll know my weakness, know my voice. And I'll believe in grace and choice. And I know perhaps my heart is farce, But I'll be born without a mask. — Mumford And Sons

Pilate was required to release one of the prisoners, so he gave the mob the choice of Jesus or Barabbas, a notorious murderer and insurrectionist-in otherwords, someone who incites mobs.
Again, the mob "spoke with one voice" demanding "with loud shouts" that Jesus be crucified. — Ann Coulter

(Democracy: a brilliant invention, that Penbury wished he had thought of, whereby citizens could voice their political will on pieces of paper, which actually gave them little or no choice, that were then deposited in a sealed box which, when opened elsewhere, were emptied onto the nearest fire and ignored while the politicians brokered real power between themselves. Genius.) — Paul Dale

When silence is God's only voice,
And waiting on Him my only choice,
A banner of faith I humbly raise
And offer a sacrifice of praise.
Though answers He may not impart,
Forever I can trust His heart. — Kathy Herman