Whispered Name Quotes & Sayings

She did not get a medal - it was not fair. 'What a swizz,' she whispered bitterly to her mother as Cicely Barnard's name was called. 'She simply doesn't know enough to be bad. — Monica Dickens

My throat tightened when I noticed a small tattoo of an origami rose on his upper arm. . .
"Hey, Lenzi," he whispered, barely louder than the surf.
"Rose," I said as our lips met. "My name is Rose. — Mary Lindsey

...I clutched her hand and pulled it to my chest. "Make me a promise, Reagan," I whispered. "Anything, name it." "If I ever treat you anything less than precious, promise that you'll tell me so and remind me of this conversation." "I promise, and promise me that you'll do the same." We linked our fingers as we did sitting in my car, which seemed like a lifetime ago. The feeling of that connection was the last thing I was aware of before we both drifted off to sleep. — Robin Alexander

Is that the name you wish, Muad'Dib?" Stilgar asked. "I am an Atreides," Paul whispered, and then louder: "It's not right that I give up entirely the name my father gave me. Could I be known among you as Paul-Muad'Dib?" "You are Paul-Muad'Dib," Stilgar said. And — Frank Herbert

Tell me I didn't imagine it, Leo. Tell me that even though our bodies were in seperate states, our star selves shared an enchanted place. Tell me that right around noon today (eastern time) you had the strangest sensation: a tiny chill on your shoulder ... a flutter in the heart ... a shadow of strawberry-banana crossing your tongue ... tell me you whispered my name. — Jerry Spinelli

Kyle whispered his name softly, like he was her air. — Debra Anastasia

I like that, he said quietly, his voice back to silk. What? I whispered. You sayin' my name, he told me. I'll like it better when you moan it, tonight, when I'm inside you. — Kristen Ashley

I had never been so wanted or needed by anyone on earth.
Babies were dangerous ... they made you fall in love before you knew what was happening.
This small, solemn creature couldn't even say my name, and he depended on me for everything.
Everything.
I'd known him for little more than a day. But I would have thrown myself in front of a bus for him. I was shattered by him. This was awful.
"I love you, Luke," I whispered.
He looked completely unsurprised by the revelation.
Of course you love me, his expression seemed to say. I'm a baby. This is what I do. — Lisa Kleypas

Clary shut her eyes. You didn't say no to an angel, no matter what it had in mind. Her heart pounding, she sat floating in the darkness behind her eyelids, resolutely trying not to think of Jace. But his face appear against the blank screen of her closed eyelids anyway - not smiling at her but looking sidelong, and she could see the scar at his temple, the uneven curl at the corner of his mouth, and the silver line on his throat where Simon had bitten him - all the marks and flaws and imperfections that made up the person she loved most in the world. Jace. A bright light lit her vision to scarlet, and she fell back against the sand, wondering if she was going to pass out - or maybe she was dying - but she didn't want to die, not now that she could see Jace's face so clearly in front of her. She could almost hear his voice, too, saying her name, the way he'd whispered it at Renwick's, over and over again. Clary. Clary. Clary.
"Clary," Jace said. "Open your eyes. — Cassandra Clare

Your lingering presence erodes me. Heartbeat by heartbeat. Cell by aging cell. Washing away any sense of self I ever had. Intruding into a nothingness I've struggled to find the pieces to fill. A jar filled with stones, piled with pebbles, topped with sand, only to be left with the knowledge that water, with enough time and persistence, has the power to wash it all away.
Your name is on my lips. Frozen. A familiar cadence of syllables that once soothed me.
A name I can't speak. Can't think of.
Not on this shore, at our lake. Not on this day. When only a year ago, with a foreshadowing that is now ice in my veins, you stood next to me, in this jacket, your hand in mine, so warm, and stared out at this expanse and whispered in awe, This is what a cold lake looks like. — S.A. McAuley

You went back in time," he repeated, "and you expect his cell phone to work?"
"Well, no, I just, I mean, I came back and he hasn't! Shouldn't he have?"
Morrison, very steadily, said, "Were you together?"
"No! I just said he went to fight the Morrigan!"
"I see." There was a pause. "The man is seventy-four years old, Joanie. He can take care of himself. If you were," a great and patient pause filled the line before he went on, "time traveling. If you were time traveling and got separated, then I can't think of any reason he would necessarily come back to the present at the same time you did."
"Except I was the focal point, it was my fault, it
!"
"Joanne. Siobhan. Siobhan Grainne MacNamarra Walkingstick."
I didn't think anybody had ever said my name like that before. I gulped down a hysterical sob and whispered, "Yeah?"
Morrison, with gentle emphasis, said, "I love you. Now pull yourself together and go find the bad guy," and hung up. — C.E. Murphy

She swallowed and licked her lips. "It's rather good."
He laughed breathlessly. Have care, part of his brain whispered. This way only leads to pain. But his c*ck was pressing hard against the placket of his breeches and he wanted to take her hand and draw her away to his rooms and keep her there until she learned to scream in pleasure.
Until she screamed his name and no other. — Elizabeth Hoyt

My name is Wind," she whispered. "And Rain. And Bone and Dust. My name is a snippet of a half-remembered song. — Sarah J. Maas

We need to do something about your unpronounceable name." 'Twas a pointed remark, one accompanied by a look of such earnestness she knew on the instant he meant it as more than a jest. "Perhaps I need a new one," she suggested. He whispered, his breath tickling the hair that hung loose over her ear. "There is no 'perhaps' about it, Katie. I mean to see to it you have a new last name, and I know exactly which one it ought to be. — Sarah M. Eden

when whispered
what an exquisite
song, it makes-
your name. — Sanober Khan

I didn't even think, just went with instinct. Opening my arms, I felt the tiny life placed there. Wrapping him close and tight to my chest, I felt my heart swelling with love. So small, so delicate. Using the tip of my finger, I traced his face, his little lips, his chin and cheeks, his eyes. "You're right, Tea, he is beautiful."

"He has your eyes," she whispered. "We still need to name him."

"Christian Simon Doyle. After your dad and your idiot friend."

Her voice sounded raw when she spoke again. "That's perfect."

"You're perfect. Thank you, Tea, thank you for my son, for our life, thank you for not giving up on me. — L.A. Fiore

She brought her mouth close to his ear. "My name is Celaena Sardothien," she whispered. "But it makes no difference if my name's Celaena or Lillian or Bitch, because I'd still beat you, no matter what you call me." She smiled at him as she stood. He just stared up at her, his bloody nose leaking down the side of his cheek. She took the handkerchief from her pocket and dropped it on his chest. "You can keep that," she said before she walked off the veranda. — Sarah J. Maas

Her name rang in Will's mind like the chime of a bell; he wondered if any other name on earth had such an inescapable resonance to it. She couldn't have been named something awful, could she, like Mildred. He couldn't imagine lying awake at night, staring up at the ceiling while invisible voices whispered 'Mildred' in his ears. But Tessa
— Cassandra Clare

Despereaux," she whispered.
And then she shouted it, "Despereaux!"
Reader, nothing is sweeter in this sad world than the sound of someone you love calling your name.
Nothing. — Kate DiCamillo

My name is one best whispered in terror in a dark corner. — Andrew Cormier

To multitudes of sufferers on beds of pain and languishing, Jesus has been the great physician to-day; in many a weeping circle around precious dust, He has been the Divine comforter, and the tears have almost ceased to flow as this Jesus has touched the bier. Dying lips have whispered His name, and the valley of the shadow has been illumined as with the glory from the celestial shores. — Abbott Eliot Kittredge

These things excite me so,' she whispered. 'If you want to kiss me any time during the evening, Nick, just let me know and I'll be glad to arrange it for you. Just mention my name. Or present a green card. — F Scott Fitzgerald

She had been born with a different name, to a woman with laughing eyes and warmly whispered words of love who'd died degraded and afraid on a misty Irish morning. — C.S. Harris

Oh, Mr. Cuthbert," she whispered, that place we came through
that white place
what was it?"
"Well now, you must mean the Avenue," said Matthew after a few moments' profound reflection. "It is a kind of pretty place."
"Pretty? Oh, PRETTY doesn't seem the right word to use. Nor beautiful, either. They don't go far enough. Oh, it was wonderful
wonderful. It's the first thing I ever saw that couldn't be improved upon by imagination. It just satisfies me here"
she put one hand on her breast
"it made a queer funny ache and yet it was a pleasant ache. Did you ever have an ache like that, Mr. Cuthbert?"
"Well now, I just can't recollect that I ever had."
"I have it lots of time
whenever I see anything royally beautiful. But they shouldn't call that lovely place the Avenue. There is no meaning in a name like that. They should call it
let me see
the White Way of Delight. Isn't that a nice imaginative name? — L.M. Montgomery

"Oh, ancient god, whatever your name," whispered Ahmed. "Help this lost son of a good father, this evil boy who meant no harm but slept in school, ran errands slowly, did not pray from his heart, ignored his mother, and did not hold his family in great esteem. For all this I know I must suffer. But here in the midst of silence, at the desert's heart, where even the wind knows not my name? Must I die so young? Am I to be forgotten without having been?" — Ray Bradbury

Ren grinned."may I remind you that you are in a prime tickling postion,and there's no escape. Tell me. ......Kelsey says:"if you tickle me,I'll portesy and struggle violently, which will cause you to drop me. He leaned close to my ear,and then whispered,"that sounds like a interesting challenge rajkumari. Perhaps we should experiment with it later"....the way he said my name made goose bumps rise all over my arms.
Page 283 of tigers curse — Colleen Houck

Konnor wanted to touch and taste him, and take him to the point of ecstasy where he couldn't even remember his own name. And Grayson was more than willing to let him do that.
"Yes, that too." He smiled, as if he found his surprise amusing. He leaned forward until their lips were inches from each other and whispered, "Anything. — Elaine White

My name's Saint," I whispered gravely into the microphone. "Are you ready to confess your sins? — Rachel Van Dyken

But that thread isn't Andulvar. It should be, since he's the Master of the Guard, but it's someone else. Someone who isn't here yet, someone who can guide me to the answers I need to walk that other path."
*The thread not tell you its name?*
"It says the mirror is coming. What kind of answer is - " Tensing, Jaenelle scrambled to her knees. "Daemon," she whispered. "Daemon. — Anne Bishop

Michaels heard his name whispered so tenderly from Judge's mouth. It was as if he was in some kind of euphoric trance. That carnal sound threw him over the edge faster than he could ready himself to fall. Buried balls deep, he ground his pelvis against Judge's furry ass and jerked spastically; plastered against him as come shot from him, filling the tip of the condom. He purred and moaned Judge's name while he rode it out. Milking every drop. With his arm still around Judge's chest, Michaels held him close to him; trying to level out his breathing, but lingering shudders hit him as his cock deflated inside Judge's warm channel. Michaels kissed the back of Judge's neck. I'm ruined. He — A.E. Via

Do people in the twenty-first century still dance?"
My heart beat thundered in my ears, far louder than the slow music. "Um," I said, barely able to swallow, my throat had gone so dry. "Sometimes."
"How about now?" he asked.
And then his strong arms were encircling my waist, his breath soft against my cheek as he gently whispered my name: "Susannah. Susannah ... — Meg Cabot

Ralston." His name on her lips was harsh, pleading.
"Yes?"
"Don't stop," she whispered into the darkness. "Please."
His teeth flashed in a wicked grin. He shook his head, watching her, fascinated by her request. "So bold. You know exactly what you want, despite never having had it before. — Sarah MacLean

What's your name?" he asked above the roar of the music.
She leaned close. "My name is Wind," she whispered. "And Rain. And Bone and Dust. My name is a snippet of a half-remembered song."
He chuckled a low, delightful sound. She was drunk and silly, and so full of the glory of being young and alive and in the capital of the world that she could hardly contain herself.
"I have no name," she purred. "I am whoever the keepers of my fate tell me to be."
He grasped her by her wrist, running a thumb along the sensitive sknin underneath. "Then let me call you Mine for a dance or two. — Sarah J. Maas

We went to his room where he closed the door, keeping the lights off. I tried not to breathe because even that seemed too loud. When he whispered my name, I jumped and then couldn't stop giggling. He muffled my giggles with his tongue. — Raziel Reid

Well, you still don't know if he changed my name." Jen couldn't help the wicked grin that spread across her face.
"What do you mean if he changed your name?" Decebel growled and he could tell he wasn't going to like the answer.
Jen's response was to start singing 'Meet Virginia' as she climbed back in the vehicle. She heard Decebel's growl and shut and locked the door just as he lunged for her. She looked at him through the glass and winked.
"Jennifer Adams, what have you gone and done to that poor wolf now?" Sally whispered to her mischievous friend.
"Just gave him some extra incentive to come back alive."
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (pp. 203-204). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

He pushed my back against the stall door, kissing me. Edward had tried kissing me, but I'd been so shocked I'd barely had time to explore how it felt. Lucy had told me stories of shady corners and sweaty palms. But this was passionate. Wild. Something I'd never known.
"Have you kissed a girl before?" I whispered. He ran his thumb over my cheek. His eyes lingered on my lips.
"Yes," he said. I thought of Alice, her pretty blonde hair, the split lip that made her so vulnerable. But it wasn't her name he said.
"A woman at the docks in Brisbane. She didn't mean anything. I was lonely. It wasn't love." A prostitute, he meant. — Megan Shepherd

Legacies are not just for legends. Whether a million people know your name, or only one person does, you still have the right to leave your mark on the world, even if it's only in your tiny corner of it, in the tiniest of ways.

Not all of us will achieve great heights and feats. Most of us will never leave our hometown or country, let alone conquer Everest. And you know what? That's okay.

Because real life is what happens in between moments of greatness. It's the little things that at the end of it all, you realize were greater than the sum of their parts. It's the amount of times you laughed, or cried, danced, sang, created, inspired, and made someone smile.

The best kind of legacies are the ones that are unseen. You'll never fully be able to measure the effect of a smile or a kind word, but I promise you, the most whispered phrase can send a shockwave around the world that lasts for centuries, or even an eternity. — A.J. Compton

What is your name?" she asked.
"Names are like clothes, lady. I have many."
"And which one do you wear tonight?"
The god smiled. She could see he liked her words. He pulled her to him, pressed his wolf lips to hers and said, "My name is Misery, and would you know yet more?"
"Yes," said the girl, breathing in his scent, the scent of something beautiful, strange and burned. "I would know more."
He flicked at her lips with his tongue and whispered, "So is yours. — M.D. Lachlan

It's the wedding day!' I whispered. He murmured my name in a pleased sort of way but he didn't wake up properly. I tried a few wriggles and nudges to see if that would help but he started gently snoring. I felt too fidgety and nervous and excited to stay cuddled up for long. I — Jacqueline Wilson

As he came to the bank Ogion, waiting, reached out his hand and clasping the boy's arm whispered to him his true name: Ged. — Ursula K. Le Guin

Go," she whispered. "Go. Show them you spell your name W-O-M-A-N. — Maya Angelou

I squeezed her hand. "He's not coming back, Carlee"
When I said her name, her whole body stiffened, her eyes opening wide and clearing, as though a veil over them had lifted. "Carlee," she whispered.
I nodded and waited for her to freak out, to start screaming or crying, bracing myself and getting ready to hug her or carry her back to the village, whatever it took. For a few impossibly long moments she didn't say anything, didn't move, and I wondered if the shock had broken her brain. Then her brown eyes locked on mine again, narrowing into slits.
"I'm gonna kill that effing creep."
I laughed, relief flooding through me, and threw my arms around her neck.
"No, seriously. I'm going to kill him! I can't believe I bought his stupid lines! I don't care how pretty he was, I mean, have you seen what I'm wearing?"
Laughing, I nodded into her shoulder. "So not the style."
"I know, right? I look like an extra in some fantasy movie. Some stupid fantasy movie. — Kiersten White

When he whispered my name, that's when I knew- this was how death felt. — Ashley Madau

Anthony," she whispered, his name a benediction, a plea, a prayer all in one.
"Anything," he replied raggedly, dropping to his knees before her, his lips trailing a hot path along her skin as his fingers frantically worked to release her from her gown. "Ask me anything," he groaned. "Anything in my power, I give to you."
Kate felt her head fall back, felt the last of her resistance melting away. "Just love me," she whispered. "Just love me."
His only answer was a low growl of need.
-Kate & Anthony — Julia Quinn

Jenny threw back her head and laughed, laughter that rang out through the leaves if the oak tree above them. Jack pulled her to him, to kiss her and whisper her name again. And the oak tree above them whispered back, of love and sacrifice, of a king and a queen, and a future made anew. — Ruth Frances Long

There was something romantic about all of it, in the way he cradled my cheek when his mouth returned to mine and whispered my name like I was some kind of mystery he'd never be able to figure out. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

My name," I whispered in her ear, and she shivered with pleasure. "Say my name again. Not in anger, or disgust, but as you did just now. As if I am the only man in the world who can satisfy you.
~Liam C. — J.J. McAvoy

He bent to lay his mouth on hers, thrusting his tongue lazily past her lips until she sucked on the thick length. "Are they any different?" he whispered against her mouth, "my kisses? Have they changed so much with my name?" She cracked her eyelids to look at him and murmur into the humid heat between them, "I can't tell. Perhaps you should demonstrate again." He licked at the corner of her mouth. "A scientific study, you mean?" His mouth trailed up her cheek, soft as a moth. "Quite," she breathed. "As you wish. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Beth ... Beth ... He whispered her name in his mind, unwilling to break the spell that surrounded them with any sound. He did not want to hear his voice; the only sounds he desired were the soft inhalations of Beth's breath, her sighs of pleasure, the brush of his body and hers as he loved her.
She was beautiful, so perfect. He wanted to sit back and feast his eyes on her, sear her into his memory, lying like this, waiting for him. — Charlotte Featherstone

Tessa Herondale Carstairs," he whispered. "You should never worry about borrowing my name when you know that you can have it to keep. — Cassandra Clare

I was blinking back freaked-out tears when Rephaim whispered my name. I looked over at him. He smiled and mouthed two small words: people change. — P.C. Cast

I read in desperate snatches in the interstices of the Quotidian, and dream of finding three uninterrupted quiet hours to think, moon, mentally maunder, and, above all, write. I am pursued by an anti-Muse; her name is Life. Her homely multisyllabic surname is often left unenunciated, but to certain initiates it may be whispered: Exigency. — Cynthia Ozick

The melody of her heart had no name; it was quick, and light. It rolled with the waves, falling as the breath left his chest, rising as he inhaled. It was the rain sliding down the glass; the fog spreading its fingers over the water. The creaking of a ship's great body. The secrets whispered by the wind, and the unseen life that moved below. It was the flame of one last candle. — Alexandra Bracken

Mati took in my expression, and a moment later I was in his arms. His kisses washed over me like floodwater over parched earth. I clutched him helplessly, tears falling down my face and mingling with his as he whispered my name. — Kathy MacMillan

Grace-" He scowled, then laughed. "What the devil is your middle name?"
"Catriona." she whispered.
"Grace Catriona Eversleigh," he said, loud and sure, "I love you. — Julia Quinn

Wakefield," she gasped, as her world began to tighten, as her hands fisted onto his jacket, her eyes grew wide open and looking at him.
They were still dark, still dangerous, so very full of passion, but she would have followed him, devil that he was, anywhere in that moment.
She was lost and he would show her the way.
"Pierson," he whispered back, his finger delving into her, sliding over her sex and sliding back inside her. Deeper. Harder.
She rocked against him, rode his touch, his strokes.
And when she said his name again, called it, gasped it, it was because he'd taken her over that edge, carried her into a world she couldn't have imagined.
"Pierson!" she cried out, her body quaking, falling, rising all at once. "Oh, Pierson, yes!"
For now she knew the way. — Elizabeth Boyle

Hey, Catnip, says Gale. My real name is Katniss, but when I first told him, I had barely whispered it. So he thought I'd said Catnip. Then when this crazy lynx started following me around the woods looking for handouts, it became his official nickname for me. I finally had to kill the lynx because he scared off game. I almost regretted it because he wasn't bad company. But I got a decent price for his pelt. — Suzanne Collins

The little boy leaned against his father's chest and slowly nodded. "Yes," he said. "I heard all of the
names, but I don't remember the other two ... just the man who hurt Gillian."
"That's the name I most want," Brodick said softly. "Who is he, Alec?"
"Alec, please," Gillian began.
"Tell me, Alec. Who is he?"
"Baron," Alec whispered. "His name is Baron. — Julie Garwood

Straightening himself and stealthily fingering his pocket-knife he started after her to follow this woman, this excitement, which seemed even with its back turned to shed on him a light which connected them, which singled him out, as if the random uproar of the traffic had whispered through hallowed hands his name, not Peter, but his private name which he called himself in his own thoughts. — Virginia Woolf

My name is Celaena Sardothien," she whispered, "and I will not be afraid. — Sarah J. Maas

Her skin smelled of autumn and the wind.
Don't Jacob ...
But it was too late. Clara didn't flinch as he pulled her close. He grabbed her hair, kissed her mouth, and he felt her heart beating as fast as his own.
... Let her go, Jacob. But he kissed her again, and it was his name she whispered, not Will's. — Cornelia Funke

My name is Ashallyn'darkmyr Tallyn, third son of the Unseelie Court ... Let it be known
from this day forth, I vow to protect Meghan Chase, daughter of the Summer King, with my sword, my honor, and my life. Her desires are mine. Her wishes are mine. Should even the world stand against her, my blade will be at her side. And should it fail to protect her, let my own existence be forfeit. This I swear, on my honor, my True Name, and my life. From this day on ... " His voice went even softer, but I still heard it as though he whispered it into my ear. "I am yours. — Julie Kagawa

Sorcha," he whispered, and realized that he had called her so a moment before. Now, that was odd; no wonder she had been surprised. It was her name in the Gaelic, but he never called her by it. He liked the strangeness of her, the Englishness. She was his Claire, his Sassenach. — Diana Gabaldon

Flynn?'

Without thinking, she took a small step toward the wolf.

Its ears cocked forward at the sound of the name, and it too took a step forward. Then froze.

She shook her head. 'Sorry,' she whispered. 'You look like someone I know.'

The wolf regarded her closely.

'That sounds stupid, huh?'

No response. Just that intense stare.

'You aren't going to eat me, are you? — M.A. Grant

The Angel blade burns you, just as God's name chokes you," said Valentine, his cool voice sharp as crystal. "They say that those who die upon its point will achieve the gates of heaven. In which case, revenant, I am doing you a favor." He lowered the blade so that the tip touched Simon's throat. Valentine's eyes were the color of black water and there was nothing in them: no anger, no compassion, not even any hate. They were empty as a hollowed-out grave. "Any last words?"
Simon knew what he was supposed to say. Sh'ma Yisrael, adonai elohanu, adonai echod. Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One. He tried to speak the words, but a searing pain burned his throat.
"Clary," he whispered instead. — Cassandra Clare

Morgan glanced over his shoulder to where Dougie walked behind him. "Dougie, you're lookin' a bit worn. Are you needin' to stop and, um, rest a bit?"
Dougie looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Rest? Are you daft?"
Morgan glared at him and gave a jerk of his head toward Amalie, who struggled on determinedly before him.
Dougie winked. "Och, aye, I am a bit weary."
In no time, word had gotten up and down the line that Amalie needed to rest but was being too stubborn to admit it. And suddenly Morgan was besieged with whispered pleas to stop, his men whining of sore feet, headaches, and aching backs.
Then Connor appeared at his side, looking fashed.
"What in God's name has come over the men? They're complainin' like old wom - — Pamela Clare

Desperaux," she said. He saw his name on her lips.
"I honor you," whispered Desperaux. "I honor you. — Kate DiCamillo

Then the Announcer would transform: into a screen through which to glimpse the past-or into a portal through which to step.
This Announcer was sticky,but she soon pulled it apart,guided it into shape. She reached inside and opened the portal.
She couldn't stay here any longer. She had a mission now: to find herself alive in another time and learn what price the Outcasts had referred to, and eventually,to trace the origin of the curse between Daniel and her.
Then to break it.
The others gasped as she manipulated the Announcer.
"When did you learn how to do that?" Daniil whispered.
Luce shook her head. Her explanation would only baffle Daniil.
"Lucinda!" The last thing she heard was his voice calling out her true name.
Strange,she'd been looking right at his stricken face but hadn't seen her lips move. Her mind was playing tricks.
"Lucinda!" he shouted once more, his voice rising in panic,just before Luce dove headfirst into the beckoning darkness. — Lauren Kate

Fortunate is the one who knows the name of their heart. They are the ones whose hearts are never truly lost. They can always call their heart back home.
Do you remember the name of your heart, Simon Lewis?"
"I think so," Simon whispered. — Cassandra Clare

Then came my favorite line of all: "you are to give him the name Jesus" (v. 31). Do you realize this was the first proclamation of our Savior's personal name since the beginning of time? Jesus. The very name at which every knee will one day bow. The very name that every tongue will one day confess. A name that has no parallel in my vocabulary or yours. A name I whispered into the ears of my infant daughters as I rocked them and sang lullabies of His love. A name by which I've made every single prayerful petition of my life. A name that has meant my absolute salvation, not only from eternal destruction, but from myself. A name with power like no other name. Jesus. — Beth Moore

He carried her over the Owl Creek mountain range without stopping," he said, quietly this time. "He carried her until he reached one of the hot springs around what became Chapin, and then he walked into the water with her and held her there for three days. He had about given up when she opened her eyes and whispered his name. — Laura Anderson Kurk

You're glowering again," Abigail whispered, stepping to his side and giving him a sharp rap with the fan she was clutching.
"Can you blame me?"
Abigail shot a look to Harriet who was having her hand accosted by an earnest young gentleman by the name of Mr. Richmond Sprout. "Not int he least, dear, but you really should try to control that temper of yours. The last thing we need this evening is for you to punch someone."
"That thought never entered my head."
"Of course it did, but I find it rather sweet. — Jen Turano

My name is Seth, he whispered in her ear, knowing she couldn't hear him. Even so, he wanted her to know. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Drink [the shot of tequila], Mia." He repeated, quietly, using my name this time. He leaned in close to me so that I could feel the heat of his body. "Believe me," His eyes locked on mine and in a hoarse voice he whispered, "you're going to want to be drunk for what I'm going to do to you tonight. — Donya Petrock

Again, stepping nearer, he besought her with another tremulous eager call upon her name.
'Margaret!'
Still lower went the head; more closely hidden was the face, almost resting on the table before her. He came close to her. He knelt by her side, to bring his face to a level with her ear; and whispered-panted out the words:
'Take care. - If you do not speak - I shall claim you as my own in some strange presumptuous way. — Elizabeth Gaskell

Yes," he whispered harshly, "I am afraid. But I will defeat you, all the same. It is you who cannot - will not be allowed to prevail. I swear this by the living Name of the One. — D.R. Ranshaw

Slowly his resistance ebbed. She felt the change in his body, the relaxing of tension, his shoulders curving around her as if he could draw her into himself. Murmuring her name, he brought her hand to his face and nuzzled ardently into her palm, his lips brushing the warm circlet of her gold wedding band. "My love is upon you," he whispered ... and she knew then that she had won. — Lisa Kleypas

It never bored them to hear words, words; they breathed them with the cool night air, never stopping to analyse; the name of the poet, Hafiz, Hali, Iqbal, was sufficient guarantee. India - a hundred Indias - whispered outside beneath the indifferent moon, but for the time India seemed one and their own, and they regained their departed greatness by hearing its departure lamented, they felt young again because reminded that youth must fly. — E. M. Forster

Kell had told his brother about the deals he struck in Grey London, and in White, and even on occasion in Red, about the various things he'd smuggled, and Rhy had stared at him, and listened, and when he spoke, it wasn't to lecture Kell on all the ways it was wrong, or illegal. It was to ask why.
"I don't know," said Kell, and it had been the truth.
Rhy had sat up, eyes bleary from drink. "Have we not provided?" he'd asked, visibly upset. "Is there anything you want for?"
"No," Kell had answered, and that had been a truth and a lie at the same time.
"Are you not loved?" whispered Rhy. "Are you not welcomed as family?"
"But I'm not family, Rhy," Kell had said. "I'm not truly a Maresh, for all that the king and queen have offered me that name. I feel more like a possession than a prince."
At that, Rhy had punched him in the face.
For a week after, Kell had two black eyes instead of one, and he'd never spoken like that again, but the damage was done. — Victoria Schwab

I love you," he whispered. "From now until the end, under any name you choose. — Karina Halle

Why is this important? Because it means the division between God and man has been abolished. Vanished. How? Because the great Jehovah, the One whose name may only be whispered once each year by the anointed high priest, had sent - yes, sent - his Son to be crucified. Why? How could the eternal Lord of all do such a thing? — Janette Oke

The woman was a menace. He would hate it if she were his. Only a man very strong and able to do without any malefriends could have a siren like her. She was more than a handful; she was a disaster waiting to happen.
Are you reading the human's thoughts, ma petite femme? Gregori's satisfied voice whispered in her mind. Even one such as he knows you are wild like the winds. With great reluctance he loosened his hold on her. Go inside the house.
Her eyes widened in mock surprise. You mean he might think we were making love? We would have been if he hadn't wandered out and interrupted us.
Push me further, cherie, and I may do something you will not like.
She laughed out loud, totally unafraid as she sashayed through the courtyard. As she passed Gary, she leaned over and blew warm air into his ear.
Savannah! Gregori roared her name, a distanct threat.
I'm going, I'm going, she said, completely unrepentant. — Christine Feehan

Fuuuuuck," Furi voiced in a throaty whine, causing Syn's balls to draw up. "Mmmm." Syn pulled out further and looked down between them at his slick cock, glistening in the warm glow of the candles. He drove back in with a little more force and Furi yelled his name. "Jesus," Syn whispered. "I wanna last all night for you Furious, but you feel too fuckin' good baby." "Make — A.E. Via

it is to be savored like a
seabreeze-whispered

dream...in the mysterious
blue minutes
before dawn

like a secret
infatuation.... like slow
languorous sips

of green tea... like a lingering
glimpse

a self-wrapped
paradise

like his name
upon my lips. — Sanober Khan

Demons were said to be cruel, but a demon would never have been so brutal as this. A demon merely called you by name, threw his arms around you, whispered his plight, understood yours, then took you for his own. — Alice Hoffman

We turned onto the last landing. Going out with this guy, I thought, would involve a lot of silly laughter, some wit
the buzz of his whispered wisecracks in my ear. But there would be as well his willingness to reveal, or more his inability to conceal, that he had been silently rehearsing my name as he climbed the stairs behind me. There would be his willingness to bestow upon me the power to reassure him. He would trust me with his happiness. — Alice McDermott

Savannah came to him instantly, her face lit up with some emotion he dared not name.She was in a man's silk shirt and nothing else. The buttons were open so that the edges gaped to reveal her high, full breasts, and narrow rib cage. Another step and her tiny waist and flat stomach, the triangle of tight ebony curls, showed for an intriguing moment before the long tails of the shirt brushed back into place. Her long hair cascaded loose and moved around her like living, breathing silk. With every step she took, he caught glimpses of satin skin.
At once the dull roar started in his head. Heat exploded through his blood, and his body tightened with alarming urgency. Every good and noble intention seemed to go up in flames. She smiled up at him, her slender arms sliding around his neck. "I'm so glad you're home," she whispered softly, her mouth finding the pulse in his throat. — Christine Feehan

My name is Kyran. You look like an honorable woman," he whispered, practicing what he would say to any prospective mate. "I have a home with my parents and my brother. There we will live and you will be part of our family. Would you like to give me many children? — Michelle M. Pillow

Grace," he whispered as he slid his fingers over my swollen lips. "I want to be inside you so damn bad right now. But when I do that, I want to hear you scream my fucking name as you claw your nails down my back. — Christine Zolendz

Before he could answer, the front door flew open and a little girl ran out, skidding to a halt inches from them. "Daddy?" The concern in the tiny child's eyes melted Shay's heart.
"Josie," Shay whispered.
Josie propped her fists on her hips, and she cocked her head to the side. "How do you know my name?"
"Joselynn, be nice and go get your nana."
Her lower lip trembled, but she turned and ran back inside. — Lia Davis

So many people chased after me in that time, calling my name, asking me to take them with me. Then there was the small percentage who called me casually over and whispered with their tightend voices. — Markus Zusak

Collapsing over her, breathing like a freight train, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered, Name's Tim. Nice to meet you. — Stephanie Julian

Kind of a wuss? Kind of a wuss? Dude, you are, like, the Duke of Wussendorf. The Earl of Wussheim. In fact, wherever wusses meet and mingle, your name is whispered in hushed, reverent tones. — Jordan Sonnenblick

I was accused of every monstrous vice by public rumour and private rancour; my name, which had been a knightly or noble one, was tainted. I felt that, if what was whispered, and muttered, and murmured, was true, I was unfit for England; if false, England was unfit for me. — Lord Byron

Simon," she whispered, vaguely surprised that she had just used his first name, for she had never used it even in the privacy of her thoughts. Moistening her dry lips, she tried once more, and to her astonishment, she did it again. "Simon ... "
"Yes?" A new tension had entered his long, hard body, and at the same time, his hand moved over the shape of her skull in the softest caress possible.
"Please ... take me to my room."
Hunt tilted her head back gently and regarded her with a sudden faint smile playing on his lips. "Sweetheart, I would take you to Timbuktu if you asked. — Lisa Kleypas

His hat nudged her forehead, tipping back as he deepened the kiss and drew her closer. His jaw was rough against her palm, and she savored the feel of it before slipping her fingers through the soft waves at his nape and straight up through the back of his hair. His hat hit the ground. "Abby . . ." he whispered. It was a plea, and she gladly answered it with her mouth. She loved the raspy drawl of her shortened name on his lips. — Denise Hunter

House of Krahr!" the vampire with the banner barked quietly.
"Krahr," the other four vampires exhaled and glared at me.
Usually they roared their house name at the top of their lungs, trying to intimidate ... Oh. They were trying to be inconspicuous. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. I'd never had an attempt at intimidation whispered at me before.
"My lord, why are you wearing trench coats?"
"We must blend in," he said. "This is a covert operation."
Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh ... "It's very hot," I said. "Trench coats are a cold-weather garment. — Ilona Andrews

He whispered her name, her true name, and she screamed as he - Celaena awoke with a gasp, clutching the Eye of Elena. — Sarah J. Maas

Remember what Mommy said about what to do when something scares you?" "Name it," she whispered. "Exactly." Her mother's smile softened. "If you give the monster a name, it takes away its power, because we're really just afraid of what we don't know. If — J.M. Darhower

I know, baby," she said, "and it's okay to be scared, but remember what we talked about? Remember what Mommy said about what to do when something scares you?" "Name it," she whispered. "Exactly." Her mother's smile softened. "If you give the monster a name, it takes away its power, because we're really just afraid of what we don't know. If you name it, if you know what it is, you can be stronger than it. So face your fears and wipe your tears, remember? Face your fears and wipe your tears. — J.M. Darhower