Whispered Words Quotes & Sayings

His blue eyes brightened with a smile. 'I did.' He looked over his shoulder, as if making sure her mom wasn't looking. The he pulled her against him and kissed her. A soft kiss.
'I got you something,' He whispered, his lips breathing words against hers.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a ring. A gold ring with a large diamond. A beautiful, teardrop-shaped diamond that looked like an engagement ring. Kylie's breath caught.
'It was my grandmother's ring. In her letter she wrote you should have it. And before you start panicking, let me say that I know maybe we're too young to call it an engagement, That's why I got you this too.' He pulled out a gold chain 'I want you to wear it around your neck. Call it a promise- A promise that when you do slip a ring on that finger ... ' He ran his hand down to her left hand. 'That it'll be my ring.'
Emotion rose in her chest 'You don't have to give me anything for me to give you that promise. — C.C. Hunter

Wanting to cry doesn't mean you can. Or at least not in any way that can give you some sort of satisfaction. It's a luxury really. The same goes for songs and laughter, or the words whispered in the ear of a friend. — Kiera Cass

As he clutched her in his shaking hands and wept against her, he whispered into her ear, the words that made him believe. "Love bears all things. Endures all things," he said. "Ours has, hasn't it?" She nodded and held him tighter. "But can it endure this, Anais? This demon who holds me so mercilessly in its claws?"
She touched his face and kissed him. "My love can and will, Lindsay. I will be here when you open your eyes. I will give you whatever you need to make it more bearable. — Charlotte Featherstone

Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it, he whispered again. I'll do anything for you.
I closed my eyes at the comfort huh that came from his words. I'd had to be strong for so long. I'd had to fight and scrap and struggle to stay alive. Everyone else depended upon me. And it felt so good to lean on someone else for a change and to know I wasn't alone. — Jody Hedlund

We splinter into a thousand pieces in her kitchen, becoming more together than we were apart. More than we were alone. With whispered promises and words of love, we exchange hearts. — Kennedy Ryan

Call me," she whispered to him with a confidence that would fade as the days passed.
Qhuinn smiled a little. "Take care."
At the sound of the two words, Blay relaxed, his big shoulders easing up. In Qhuinn-landia, "Take care" was synonymous with "I'm never going to see, call or fuck you again. — J.R. Ward

No one feels like you do, so every brush of your skin is a cruel reminder of what I've lost. I can barely stand the sight of you because you're more beautiful than I've allowed myself to remember, and when I cut that wire off Maximus and smelled you all over him, I wanted to kill him more than I've wanted to kill anyone in my life, yet I couldn't because of my promise to you."
Slow tears continued to trickle down my cheeks, but for a different reason this time.
"You care."
The words were whispered with a despairing sort of wonder. He wasn't willing to rescind his loveless vow, clearly, but I was wrong about the apathy I'd thought he felt. That he admitted all the above was surprising enough; the fact he'd done it within earshot of his pilots was no less than shocking.
Vlad grunted. "Don't worry. I intend to kill them as soon as we land. — Jeaniene Frost

You can't tell me what to do anymore, Travis! I don't belong to you!"
Her words ignited a deep anger inside me. I stomped to the bed, planted my hands on the mattress on each side of her thighs, and leaned into her face.
"Well, I belong to you!" I screamed. I put so much force behind my words, I could feel all the blood rush to my face. Abby met my glare, refusing to even flinch. I looked at her lips, panting. "I belong you," I whispered, my anger fading as desire took over. — Jamie McGuire

She promised new, tantalizing diversions. She whispered words of raw, intense pleasure the likes of which he'd never experienced. He was intrigued. She had the power to drag his mind into his body and keep it there, unable to think or worry. And that was how he found himself in the basement of her town house in Toronto, naked, restrained, and on his knees. She confused his senses by both pleasing and punishing him. With every strike, all his emotional pain seemed to bleed away. His single errant thought was why had he waited so long to use physical pain to alleviate his mental suffering. But even that thought was soon forgotten. — Sylvain Reynard

Cam restored her clothing slowly, his strong hands lifting her from the beech. Crushing her close, he muttered something incomprehensible against her hair. Another spell to bind her, she thought hazily, her cheek pressed to his smooth, hard chest. "You're speaking in Romany," she mumbled.
Cam switched to English. "Amelia, I - " He stopped, as if the right words eluded him. "I can't stop myself from being jealous, any more than I can stop being half Roma. But I'll try not to be overbearing. Just say you'll be my wife."
"Please," Amelia whispered, her wits still scattered, "let me answer later. When I can think clearly."
"You do too much thinking." He kissed the top of her head. "I can't promise you a perfect life. But I can promise that no matter what happens, I'll give you everything I have. We'll be together. You inside me ... me inside you. — Lisa Kleypas

We already had three steps behind us.
"Hold on, Lia," I whispered.
Hold on for me. — Mary E. Pearson

That night, it wasn't Dobie Gray," I whispered. "It was this song. It was Ella Mae singing this to me when I thought you weren't all I knew you to be, which is all the words to this song. Twenty-nine years, I held out for this. Then, half an hour later, you proved every one of these words true and every moment since then, you kept doing it. I'll take you thinking I'm your angel but you need to know you're my hero. Twenty-nine, honey, I held out for this. Twenty-nine years, I held out for you. — Kristen Ashley

He hung up and stood there, his mind spinning. Uncle Benny's words whispered in his head. We'll do what we always do. What they always did. Fight fires. Save people's lives. Yes, that's what they'd do now. The FDNY was the biggest fire department in the world. They were the best. And they would do what they always did. — Lauren Tarshis

He kissed her soundly, stealing her breath, before saying, "Tell me what you want, my lovely."
"I-" She stopped, too many words coming at once. 'I want you to touch me. I want you to love me. I want you to show me the life that I have been missing.' She shook her head, uncertain.
He smiled, pressing firmly with his hand against her, watching the wave of pleasure course through her. "Incredible," he whispered against the side of her neck. "So responsive. Go on..."
"I want-" She sighed as he set his lips to the hardened peak of one breast again. "I want... I want you," she said, and, in that moment, the words, so utterly simple in the face of the roiling emotions that coursed through her, seemed enough.
He moved his fingers firmly, deftly against her, and she gasped. "Do you want me here, Empress?"
She closed her eyes in embarrassment, biting her lower lip.
"Are you aching for me here?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Poor, sweet love. — Sarah MacLean

She tells her love while half asleep,
In the dark hours,
With half-words whispered low:
As Earth stirs in her winter sleep
And puts out grass and flowers
Despite the snow,
Despite the falling snow. — Robert Graves

My eyes were covered and closed: eddying darkness seemed to swim around me, and reflection came in as black and confused a flow. Self-abandoned, relaxed, and effortless, I seemed to have laid me down in the dried up bed of a great river: I heard a flood loosened in remote mountains, and felt the torrent come: to rise I had no will, to flee I had no strength. I lay faint longing to be dead. One idea only still throbbed life like within me- a remembrance of God: it be got an unuttered prayer: these words went wandering up and down in my rayless mind, as something that should be whispered, but no energy found to express them — Charlotte Bronte

I am sorry, my darling, but there will never be another to replace you. The words I whispered to you were folly, and should have realized it then. You- and you alone- have always been the only thing I wanted, and now that you are gone have no desire to find another. — Nicholas Sparks

Sam," she said.
"I'm trying!"
"Sam," she repeated.
"No," he spat, hearing her tone. "No!"
He began screaming for help then. Celaena pressed her face to one of the holes in the grate. Help wasn't going to come-not fast enough.
"Please," Sam begged as he beat and yanked on the grate, he tried to wedge another dagger under the lid. "Please don't."
She knew he wasn't speaking to her.
The water hit her neck.
"Please," Sam moaned, his fingers now touching hers. She'd have one last breath. Her last words.
"Take my body home to Terrasen, Sam," she whispered. And with a gasping breath, she went under. — Sarah J. Maas

I'm sorry, Imi." His apology whispered in my ears as I left the room. But it was the words that followed that burrowed deep.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be who you deserved."
I stopped just before opening the door.
"I'm sorry I believed that you already were," I responded softly. — A Meredith Walters

I am yours," she whispered. The words cut like knives, barely out of her mouth before he stole them, sealing them with his own lips. — Kiersten White

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Guess what?"
"What?"
Meeting his amber-colored eyes, I admitted what probably wasn't a secret, but what I felt like I needed to put into words. "I like you, Seth."
He stopped his hand over mine, staying there, as he gave me a lopsided smile. "Guess what?"
"What?" I whispered.
Seth shifted so that his lips brushed mine as he spoke. "I like you too, Josie. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

The boy held her tighter, murmured soft words to lull her to sleep.
"It's only a nightmare," he whispered. "The dreams will stop."
He didn't understand. The dreams were the only place it was safe to use her power now, and she longed for them. — Leigh Bardugo

I'm so happy," she whispered. "I never thought I would ever be this happy." Richard put his arms around her and held her to him. He rested his cheek against her hair and let her words sink deep into his heart. "Any reason why?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "You, of course," she said. "How . . ." She pulled her head back and looked up at him. "Because you are a sweet, tender, passionate man and you treat me like you might just love me." He smiled weakly. "Indeed." She reached up and touched his mouth. "There's that smile again." "A poor one." "It's better than no smile at all. Don't grin, though. I have to be sitting down for that." She brushed past him and started down the steps. "Have a nice day, dear." "Dear? How mean you that?" he asked. — Lynn Kurland

Much like books, she could tell how voiceless things had provided a brand of companionship more compatible to his nature than human friendship had ever been. These things, locked in their inanimate ways, fed him ideas, she thought. They whispered their tales to him through unmoving lips and he listened, opening himself to their world so much more than any normal passerby. That much was evident in the way he'd taken the photos, as if he'd caught each soulless thing in a candid moment of secret animation. Like they'd sensed him coming and so turned themselves his way because they knew that he held the power to translate their silence into words. — Kelly Creagh

I stroke his hair and repeat the words of comfort he whispered to me the last time we were together. "Shhh," I say. "I'm here. I'm right here. — Susan Ee

She slipped Glenn into her bed and then her face hung over Glenn's for one quiet moment, like a moon.
"Meera doe branagh, Glennora Morgan."
The strange words drifted down from her mother's lips, whispered as light as falling snow.
"What does it mean, Mommy?"
Fingertips grazed Glenn's cheek. "It means I love you. It means I'll always love you." She kissed Glenn softly on the forehead, then backed away. "No matter what."
She stepped into the bright hallway and closed the door.
When Glenn woke the next morning, her mother was gone — Jeff Hirsch

But the most terrible thing was that the shame didn't simply sear my heart, it also mingled into a single whole with the pleasure I was getting from what was going on.
It was something quite unimaginable - truly beyond good and evil. It was then that I finally understood the fatal abysses trodden by De Sade and Sacher-Masoch, who I had always thought absurdly pompous. No, they weren't absurd at all - they simply hadn't been able to find the right words to convey the true nature of their nightmares. And I knew why - there were no such words in any human language.
'Stop,' I whispered through my tears.
But in heart I didn't know what I wanted - for him to stop or to carry on.
I couldn't hold back any longer and I started crying. But they were tears of pleasure, a monstrous, shameful pleasure that was too enthralling to be abandoned voluntarily. — Victor Pelevin

Taylor whispered the words, but her voice held the intensity of a shout. — Embee

I have missed you so much I could kiss you," he whispered.
September's face fell. "Oh, but Saturday! I've had my First Kiss and I didn't mean to, I didn't want to, but your shadow is very rude and impulsive, and he took it before I could say two words! And I've had my second and third and maybe fifth, too. Come to think of it, this has all involved rather a lot of kissing."
Saturday furrowed his brow. "Why should I care about your First Kiss?" he said. "You can kiss anyone you like. But if you sometimes wanted to kiss me, that would be all right, too." His blush was so deep September could feel the heat of it.
She leaned in, and kissed her Marid gently, sweetly. She tried to kiss him the way she'd always thought kisses would be. His lips tasted like the sea. — Catherynne M Valente

A beauty beyond words," whispered Rini, mesmerized by the view. — Jason Medina

His maniacal laugh caused the troubled Keeley to rise, terror in her eyes as they darted around the room. She couldn't see him, of course. He stepped closer and ran his hand through her hair and whispered, "Your knight will not save you. Love isn't what you desire. Only I can give you what you need. Mark my words, beauty, he shall die. And you will be the one to destroy him." Keeley — Lora Ann

She slipped her hands beneath the front of his shirt, slowly running her fingertips over his chest and back down to his waist. He turned in her arms and smiled, but his grin was filled with mocking suspicion. "Are you trying to distract me, Violet Ambrose?"
"I guess you're smarter than you look," she teased as he pushed her backward so that they both fell on her bed.
"And you are not as funny as you think you are." His mouth hovered over hers, his arms tightening, crushing her against him. Violet giggled and tried to squirm free, but Jay wouldn't let her. He kissed her throat, his lips teasing her until it wasn't his grip that made it hard for Violet to breathe.
"Oh, and Violet, he whispered against her ear, his breath tickling her cheek, "I'm still your best friend. Don't ever forget it." His words were fervent and touching. — Kimberly Derting

His touch was like an electric current that ran through his fingers into my cheek and down the back of my neck.
I took another step back, away from him. "Don't do that," I whispered and hated the part of myself that died for his soft touch. "Why? Why do you do things like that if you agree we shouldn't be involved? It's confusing and ... and you make it so much worse." My words tumbled over each other as they poured from my mouth.
He didn't reach for me again. His blue eyes were sad. — Kirby Howell

You're telling me that you can raise the dead by simply summoning?"
"Yes."
"My God," she whispered, staring at me."What have they done?"
Hearing her words and seeing her expression, I knew I'd just done something worse than raising the dead
I'd confirmed her worst fears about us.
In her eyes, I saw the same thing I saw when people looked at Derek.
I saw fear.
And I knew we were in trouble. — Kelley Armstrong

Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord,'" I whispered, the words familiar from Scripture. "But not this time, God. You had your chance. — Faith Hunter

I am afraid to die, though,' I whispered to myself. These turned out to be my last words. They were not very impressive words, but it was too late to change them. — Haruki Murakami

She was not at the concert any more. She looked around the rustic room, blinking. What the hell?
The singer had her in his arms still. There was no balcony between them now.
His hands slid into her hair, keeping her head still. "Not yet," he begged, sliding his lips down her throat, nuzzling her jaw. "There's time yet, Toireasa," he murmured. "Time to say fare thee well properly,."
"We should have returned to Ireland, Breandan," she whispered, as he loosened the ties on her gown and dropped it from her shoulders. The words came to her naturally, even as a tiny voice was raging in her mind, "What on earth are you saying, Taylor?" But that voice was being drowned out by the pure sensuousness he was stirring in her. — Teal Ceagh

It would take little effort for her to hurt him right now. She could hurt him badly.
But Griffin King could hurt her, as well, and he hadn't. Instead of using force or violence against her, he used patience and understanding. She had no defense against that.
When he let her go, she was shaking. Tears filled her eyes as she turned to her mother who stood staring at her in horror.
"My sweet little girl," her mother whispered. "I didn't know. I would never ... " Her words faded into a choked sob. Finley crossed the short distance between them on quivering legs and wrapped her arms around the shorter woman. She didn't care if Griffin or his nasty aunt saw her tears. If anything was worth crying over, the discovery that her father had made her a monster had to be one. — Kady Cross

How did I ever stay away from you?" Gentle fingertips caressed my cheeks, my lips, ran over my chin and down my neck. His palm came to rest on my chest, his fingers splayed out over my heart. It thrummed in devotion against his hand. "I heard this calling out for me every day." His breath whispered across my face, his words so sad, filled with so much regret. "Did you hear mine? — A.L. Jackson

I'm in love with you, Trip. I love you. I always have."
It looked as though he'd been slapped in the face by my words. Pain drifted across his features as he dropped his head and shook it. "I know."
Not the words I was imagining, and the unexpectedness made me laugh.
"You know? Oh my God. Did you just Han Solo me?"
...
"I know you love me. I know, and it's incredible." He looked down at me, his eyes a shifting pool of blue, the corner of his lip quirked into a lopsided smile as he gently swiped my hair behind my ear. He buried his face against my neck, his breath tickling against my skin as he whispered softly, "Because I am completely in love with you right back. — T. Torrest

Bradford paused and his expression shadowed. He pulled her back and held her tight. Whispered, "Don't say it, okay? I know what's coming and I don't want to hear it. Not tonight. Tomorrow maybe, but not tonight."
He wasn't talking about Kate Breeden. They both knew that Munroe could only bear so much pain and loss before coming completely undone. She needed time away, time to heal, and she could only do that by returning to who she was: the lone operative, shut down and shut off.
Munroe set the glass on an end table, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. She truly loved him; always would. She smiled and fought back the sadness, glad in a way that she was spared from having to say good-bye, from uttering the words she never wanted to speak - although, in truth, there would never really be a good-bye, because if this was where home was, then like a homing pigeon she'd return, and Bradford had to know it, just as he also knew her reasons for leaving. — Taylor Stevens

Wow," Tate whispered. "They're fucking right on the dance floor. "
"I see that." There was an edge to my words.
Dave gave me a sideways grin. "Juan will cry at being stuck in the van. If he were here, he'd be screaming 'Authenticity's imperative!' and taking his pants down. — Jeaniene Frost

The words that make the rose bloom were also said to me.
The words told to the cypress to make it grow strong and straight.
The instructions whispered to the jasmine.
And whatever was said to the sugarcane to make it sweet.
And to the pomegranate flowers to make them blush.
The same thing is being said to me. — Rumi

And because she loved him so much, because she would always love him, she forced herself to say what needed to be said, although the words tore open every old bleeding wound she'd hidden away so deep within her. "And I would do it again," she whispered, "because you are who you are, while I am . . . what I am." His — C.S. Harris

It is not real," he whispered. "This place is only a thought that has grabbed hold of you. It cannot harm you. You are not of this place, and it has no power over you. You do not need it, nor do you owe it your allegiance." I nodded, listening only to his words and not to the rattling of the windows, which had begun as soon as we stepped inside. — Rita Murphy

On the fifth [day] Arnom came to me, himself weeping, and I knew his tidings without words. And this is a strange folly, that what seemed to me worst of all was that Bardia had died without ever hearing what it would have shamed him to hear. It seemed to me that all would be bearable if, once only, I could have gone to him and whispered in his ear, 'Bardia, I loved you. — C.S. Lewis

The 5,500-squarefoot house was custom built with a Mediterranean decor. It was the exact opposite of the dingy hotel rooms he stayed in when he was on the road. This house was very open with high ceilings, so even giant-like friends like Kevin Nash could hang out with no issue...
Shawn conducted a class as I photographed away. Students Lance Cade, Bryan Danielson (Daniel Bryan), Brian Kendrick, Paul London and others did calisthenics and other exercises. After an hour or so they got into the ring to do some falls and learn a few holds....
Here I was face-to-face with Shawn Michaels, and he asked me, "What do you want to do?" My mouth spewed words faster than I could think, as I whispered so the students wouldn't hear, "Shoot me into the ropes. When I come back on the rebound I will give you a flying dropkick and then put you in the figure-four leglock for the win. — Bill Apter

In the words of some really beautiful smart girl I know, just give me what I want, Caleb whispered. — Shelly Crane

I'm here, Papa," she whispered, saying the words she had longed to say for her entire life. "I'm here, and I'm never going to leave you again."
He made a sound of contentment and closed his eyes. Just as Evie thought he had fallen asleep, he murmured, "Where shall we walk first today, lovey? The biscuit baker, I s'pose..."
Realizing that he imagined this was one of her long-ago childhood visits, Evie replied softly, "Oh, yes." Hastily she knuckled away the excess moisture from her eyes. "I want an iced bun... and a cone of broken biscuits... and then I want to come back here and play dice with you."
A rusty chuckle came from his ravaged throat, and he coughed a little. "Let Papa take forty winks before we leaves... there's a good girl..."
"Yes, sleep," Evie murmured, turning the cloth over on his forehead. "I can wait, Papa. — Lisa Kleypas

Don't take her from me, he whispered fiercely, hoping the words wrenched from the depths of his soul somehow made it to God's ears. — Maya Banks

All those words,' she whispered, 'so diligently placed together, and so pointlessly torn apart. — Jasper Fforde

Can I keep you? he whispered, laughing and pulling away from her as soon as the words came out. Whats wrong with me? I'm quoting Casper. — J.M. Darhower

He turned his face my way, not having very far to lean in, and kissed me once, sweet and slow - a breeze off the ocean - almost like he was asking permission. He opened his eyes to look at me.
Permission granted, Lieutenant.
When we kissed again, it was totally different. He scooted closer, his warm hands on either side of my neck. The pressure of his fingers under my hair was solid and strong, yet always gentle. When his lips parted, I got dizzy, like he might positively absorb me. For a second I feared I might be swooning like those silly ladies in Jane Austen novels.
"That was rude of me to interrupt," he whispered, his lips on the corner of my mouth. "But I'm not about to make this decision easy for you."
How he managed to string together so many coherent words was beyond me; I couldn't even remember what day it was. His fingers combed through my hair, and I caught a flash of his green eyes as they flickered open. — Ophelia London

When I got home, I seemed in a dream. My windows looked upon hers; I remained all the day looking at them, and all the day they were closed and dark. I forgot everything for this woman; I slept not, I eat nothing. That evening I fell into a fever, the next morning I was delirious, and the next evening I was DEAD!'
'Dead!' cried his hearers.
'Dead!' answered the narrator, with a conviction in his voice which words alone cannot give; 'dead as Fabian, the
cast of whose dead face hangs from that wall!'
'Go on,' whispered the others, holding their breath.
The hail still rattled against the windows, and the fire had so nearly died out, that they threw more wood on the feeble flame which penetrated the darkness of the studio and cast a faint light upon the pale face of him who told the story. (The Dead Man's Story — James Hain Friswell

Hey, princess."
"Hey," I whispered, as Ash slipped his arms around my waist from behind, drawing me close. I could feel his glare aimed at Puck over my head, a silent, protective gesture that spoke louder than any words. Mine. Back off. — Julie Kagawa

He smelled the garden, the yellow shield of light smote his eyes, and he whispered, "Life is so beautiful."
...
Yes, he thought, if I can die saying, "Life is so beautiful," then nothing else is important. — Mario Puzo

There were no words, no capacity to form them, but there were thoughts swelling huge in her head and he was in every one of them, even deeper than he was in her body, because he didn't want to lose here.
He didn't want to lose her.
And maybe, that death-dark voice whispered to her aching heart, maybe he should. — R. Lee Smith

Lindsey took my father's hand and watched his face for movement. My sister was growing up before my eyes. I listened as she whispered the words he had sung to the two of us before Buckley was born:

Stones and bones;
snow and frost
seeds and beansand polliwogs.
Paths and twigs, assorted kisses,
We all who knowwho Daddy misses!
His two little frogs of girls, that's who.
They know where they are, do you, do you?


When her eyes closed and they both slept silently together, I whispered to them:
Stones and bones;
snow and frost;
seeds and beans and polliwogs.
Paths and twigs, assorted kisses,
We all know who Susie misses..... — Alice Sebold

Don't leave me," he whispered, his words making me shiver.
I covered his hands, which held my face, with mine and stared up into eyes that pleaded with to me to stay. "You scare me," I told him honestly.
He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine. He took deep, raspy breaths. "I scare myself," he said. — A Meredith Walters

Elron: These were happy woods. The entire place was happy from the house to the gardens to the woods. But this one little garden had something extra. It was excited. Something odd for plants and trees. They were prone to joy, happiness, sorrow and tranquility but not something as active as excitement. Someone had spent a lot of time here and a bit of their personality had seeped into the place. That someone was excited about life and probably young. Strange. Few youth of any race knew enough to transmit their feelings. The trees whispered about a person, moving and bending with change. The plants gossiped about tenderness shown them but the air breathed words of rage and despair in my ear. The plants didn't know gender but I got the impression of a woman, a young woman. The altar indicated she was a witch. A good witch. — N.E. Conneely

Note the significant fact that we always hear of the "fall of man," not the fall of woman, showing that the consensus of human thought has been more unerring than masculine interpretation. Reading this narrative carefully, it is amazing that any set of men ever claimed that the dogma of the inferiority of woman is here set forth. The conduct of Eve from the beginning to the end is so superior to that of Adam. The command not to eat of the fruit of the tree of Knowledge was given to the man alone before woman was formed. Genesis ii, 17. Therefore the injunction was not brought to Eve with the impressive solemnity of a Divine Voice, but whispered to her by her husband and equal. It was a serpent supernaturally endowed, a seraphim as Scott and other commentators have claimed, who talked with Eve, and whose words might reasonably seem superior to the second-hand story of her — Elizabeth Cady Stanton

I can see time, whispered Mogget, so softly that his words were lost. — Garth Nix

Furi felt Syn tensing up. He stopped pressing forward and Syn grabbed at his leg, urging him to continue. Furi grabbed Syn's hand off his leg and intertwined their fingers. "Relax. I refuse to hurt you. Breathe, slow and even." Furi rocked the length he already had in Syn's body slowly back and forth. "So fuckin' tight." Furi could feel the rise and fall of Syn's chest as he tried to breathe through the intrusion. "Mmmm. Burns," Syn hissed. "Trust me baby. It's gonna get real good." "I trust you," Syn whispered. Furi's heart soared at those words. Damn he wanted this man to be his, more than anything in the world. Syn was exactly what he was missing in his life. Although he never imagined falling for a cop, he wouldn't change one thing about his newly gay, over-protective Sergeant. "Good, — A.E. Via

You've been waiting ... "
"I have." He leaned in toward my lips but didn't touch them. "Waiting and waiting forever. For you. Waiting for you to grow up. Waiting for you to see me as something more than just a friend of Ian's. Waiting for the right time to tell you how I feel about you." He whispered so close, I could feel the brush of breath from his beautiful words. "Just a very long time of waiting, Elaina."
... "I don't want to wait anymore." His eyes melded into me and held on. "Please don't make me wait for you any longer," he pleaded. "I can't do it, Cherry. I just can't. — Raine Miller

Avery?" she whispered.
He gathered her closer, his eyes still closed.
"Avery?"
"Shh." His voice was low and infinitely sad. "Hush. Tomorrow's waiting outside this door. It's crouching there in an ocean of words and uncertainties. But it's not here yet and we are. Lily. Lillian. Love. I'm begging you. Let me love you again. Let me love you all night long." She answered with a kiss. — Connie Brockway

Do you like being teased?" I whispered.
"I enjoy previews," he said, the words confident, but his voice rough with arousal.
-Merit and Ethan — Chloe Neill

Don't make a sound!" she whispered, giving me a little shake. "I need your help."
Damn! She had given the female password - spoken those magic words that stretched back through the mists of time to a bond made in some primordial swamp. — Alan Bradley

I assume you have a reason for manhandling my mate?" Cool words but his amusement was apparent.
"Riley likes Mercy," she stage-whispered, trying to twist around to look at her mate. "But she told him that h - oomph." Riley set her on her feet without warning.
She swayed, but Judd's hands on her hips kept her upright. Pushing her hair off her face, she leaned into her sexy Psy mate and smirked at Riley. "Sooo ... "
"Judd." Riley ignored her. "You're obviously not interesting enough for my sister - she's got way too much time to poke her nose into other people's business."
Judd wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin on her hair. "I'm more interested in you and Mercy. — Nalini Singh

Come for me." His words were a plea, whispered hotly in her ear. — Evangeline Collins

She should be more frightened herself, she knew. She was only ten, a skinny girl on a stolen horse with a dark forest ahead of her and men behind who would gladly cut off her feet. Yet somehow she felt calmer than ever had in Harrenhal. The rain had washed the guard's blood off her fingers, she wore a sword across her back, wolves were prowling through the dark like lean grey shadows, and Arya Stark was unafraid. Fear cuts deeper than swords, she whispered under her breath, the words that Syrio Forel had taught her, and Jaqen's words too, valar morghulis. — George R R Martin

Tears rolled down my cheeks as what happened today crashed into me. I kissed his head as I held him tight. "You saved my life," I whispered my voice warbling.
His words were thick with sleep, he told me, "I was returning the favor. — S.C. Stephens

The girl didn't notice that her boyfriend's head had transformed into a big microphone. So when she whispered her secrets into his ear, her words echoed trough the city. In her embarrassment, she ran out of the house to hide somewhere. And what she saw scared her: couples with microphone heads walked the streets hand in hand. What a sad new world this was, where everybody had to learn how to hold back from saying things.
Sounds of slammed doors echoued through the city. Apart from this, there was only silence. — Zoltan Komor

Me and the bottle have always been friends, we've had a few old nasty fights but the bottle would always win, so when I go to answer that final curtain call, I can hear these words being whispered by all ... Ol' George stopped drinking today. — George Jones

There you are," she whispered wonderingly as the edges of her lips tilted up into a tiny smile. She formed her words as clearly as she could, not wanting him to misunderstand her. "I've been looking for you." His stern brows lowered in confusion, and she leaned down to press a feather-soft kiss to his sensuous lips before easing back so that he could see her face again. "There's the man I married. — Natasha Anders

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

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

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

We see a promise as a personal law, and we see the people who break them as private-life criminals. We think it automatically, one of those truths that just is to us: breaking a promise is a bad, bad thing. A promise can be as buoyant as whispered words or solemn as a marriage vow, but we view it as something pure and untouchable when it should never be either of those things. If a promise is a personal law, a contract, then it ought to be layered with fine print, rules and conditions, promises within those promises, and whether we like it or not, it ought to be something we can snatch back, that we should snatch back, if those rules are violated. — Deb Caletti

I love you," she whispered, gazing up into his pale gray eyes.
He smiled crookedly, for a moment looking at her with a dazzled air. He had, she realized sadly, no experience hearing those words. He didn't know how to react. "I figured as much."
This time, she didn't hit him. — Connie Brockway

Color tends to corrupt photography and absolute color corrupts it absolutely. Consider the way color film usually renders blue sky, green foliage, lipstick red, and the kiddies' playsuit. These are four simple words which must be whispered: color photography is vulgar. — Walker Evans

You talk weird." She whispered as she stared up at the white ceiling.
"Its part of my barely there practically nonexistent charm, but just like genital herpes, I grow on ya, kid and I'll getcha in the end." Sienna replied with a smirk, although her words were vaguely comical, everything else about her was not. — Ali Harper

Bing tightened his fingers around hers...."I know what I want."
She raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"
"Only you." And as he said the words, he felt a tremendous weight lifting from his chest. "It's always been only you..."
"All right." She narrowed her eyes. "But if you break my heart, I'm going to have Peaches have words with you."
"That's threatening a police officer. Technically."
"What are you going to do?" She flashed him a teasing smile. "Arrest me?"
He bent his head to hers, all the way to her ear. "Stick with me and there might just be some handcuffs in your future," he whispered.
She laughed out loud. "I'll take that as an incentive to speedily recover. — Dana Marton

What the - Have you been crying?" Tohrment demanded. "Are you all right? Dear God, is it the baby?"
"Tohr, relax. I'm a female, I cry at matings. It's in the job description." There was the sound of a kiss.
"I just don't want anything to upset you, leelan."
'Then tell me the brothers are ready."
"We are."
"Good. I'll bring her out."
"Leelan ? "
"What?" There were low words spoken in their beautiful language.
"Yes, Tohr," Wellsie whispered. "And after two hundred years, I'd mate you again. In spite of the fact that you snore and you leave your weapons all over our bedroom. — J.R. Ward

There was a patient who sat with her family in a circle around her, all holding hands. Sister Philomena asked if they would like to join her for prayers and they said yes, they would. They closed their eyes as Sister Philomena whispered the words and I thought this must be the nearest humans get to whatever God is, when they hold hands and listen. — Rachel Joyce

I hope you were right," he whispered. "I hope there's beauty in my asymmetry."

"You weren't a nuisance," he continued, his words growing louder in the cold, snowy silence. "You were the Northern Dancer, sire of the century, the superest of all racehorses. — David Arnold

It was her first book, an indigo cover with a silver moonflower, an art nouveau flower, I traced my finger along the silver line like smoke, whiplash curves ... I touched the pages her hands touched, I pressed them to my lips, the soft thick old paper, yellow now, fragile as skin. I stuck my nose between the bindings and smelled all the readings she had given, the smell of unfiltered cigarettes and the espresso machine, beaches and incense and whispered words in the night. I could hear her voice rising from the pages. The cover curled outward like sails. — Janet Fitch

What's going on, Mystique?" I whispered. "What are we doing in this very dark bedroom, exchanging flirty eyes?" She held up her hands, her words coming out in a breathless tumble. "This room is Vegas. Okay? What happens here stays here. Or, rather, what's said here stays here. — Christina Lauren

Jacque leaned over and whispered in Sally's ear, "I give it two days before he lays one on her."
"You're being generous. I say less than twenty four hours."
"Is that a bet?" Jacque asked, eyebrows raised.
"Better believe it," Sally answered. Her lips eased into a crooked smile.
Jen leaned around Sally and glared at her two best friends. "What are you two betting on?"
"Good grief. What, does she have eagle ears or something?"
"No, you dork. Your whisper is just you talking in normal volume but making your voice raspy. Really, you sound more like a chick who's been smoking for thirty years."
Jen shrugged. "I'm just throwing that out there. You can take it and apply it at your leisure."
Fane was chuckling at Jen's words when Jacque elbowed him, causing him to cough."You don't get to laugh, wolf-man."
Jacque turned back to Jen. "Thank you for that observation, Sherlock."
"Always glad to help a friend in need, Watson." Jen grinned at Jacque's irritated look. — Quinn Loftis

When will you ask for your post back?" he whispered in her ear. "I miss the smell of
industrial-strength solvents."
She laughed softly. "Soon. And when will you have papers read at the mathematical society
again? I rather like having my husband called a genius for reasons that are not clear to me."
My husband. The words rolled off her tongue, easy and beautiful. He kissed her fervently.
"Soon. My brilliance quite overflowed on the way home. I have four notebooks to show for
it."
"Good. We don't want people to think I love you for your looks alone."
"In that case we should also put you in some rather revealing gowns once in a while, so that
people don't think I married you for your accomplishments alone. — Sherry Thomas

I can't wait to have words with the Gray King when this shit is all finished," Locke whispered. "There's a few things I want to ask him. Philosophical questions. Like, 'How does it feel to be dangled out a window by a rope tied around your balls, motherfucker? — Scott Lynch

Will you bloody say something?" I demanded at last, in a voice that shook oiliv a little. His mouth opened, but no words came out. He shook his head slowly from side to side. "Jesus," he whispered at last. — Diana Gabaldon

Zane reached up to take Ty's wrist in a firm grip and pull his hand away, but he didn't let go. Ty was still, holding his breath as he waited. Slowly, Zane looked up at him. His dark eyes watered with pain and emotion. "We can still cut and run," he whispered. Ty's chest tightened, and his insides seemed to lurch with the words. He nodded as he let his fingers curl over, trying to touch the hand that still gripped his wrist. "We will. But I need revenge first," he said softly. Zane's brow furrowed as he loosened his fingers. "What for?" he asked quietly. "You," Ty answered simply. — Madeleine Urban

I shook my head, just as I had back then. "Let the one you've just had take effect," I said. "You'll feel better then." "There's no better for me." He put his fingers on my wrist, his grip surprisingly tight. "Please. Have mercy." But the pill was already beginning its work, or maybe it was the effort of making the request, of taking my arm, of saying such words. His eyelids began to droop. "You're a clever girl, always were," he whispered. "You know what to do." His eyes closed on the first compliment he ever gave me. — Orna Ross

Emily," whispered Teddy, "you're the sweetest girl in the world."

The words have been said so often by so many millions of lads to so many millions of lasses, that they ought to be worn to tatters. But when you hear them for the first time, in some magic hour of your teens, they are as new and fresh and wondrous as if they had just drifted over the hedges of Eden. Madam, whoever you are, and however old you are, be honest, and admit that the first time you heard those words on the lips of some shy sweetheart, was the great moment of your life. — L.M. Montgomery

I love you too. I love you far too much, I'm sure. But I don't know how to love you any other way." His final words were a whisper, but they burned in the air. "I don't know how to love you any other way, either," she whispered back. "Then God have mercy on us both. — Sylvain Reynard

They're fighting an infection in his leg. Trying to save it - save him. But you saved his life out there in the field, no doubt about that." The praise felt so hollow Ben was surprised the words didn't echo. "He can't die," Ben whispered. "I need to see him." "He'll — Annabeth Albert

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

Hastings is going to go to a half-wit," the duke moaned. "All those years of praying for an heir, and now it's all for ruin. I should have let the title go to my cousin." He turned back to his son, who was sniffling and wiping his eyes, trying to appear strong for his father. "I can't even look at him," he gasped. "I can't even bear to look at him." And with that, the duke stalked out of the room.
Nurse Hopkins hugged the boy close. "You're not an idiot," she whispered fiercely. "You're the smartest little boy I know. And if anyone can learn to talk properly, I know it's you."
Simon turned into her warm embrace and sobbed.
"We'll show him," Nurse vowed. "He'll eat his words if it's the last thing I do. — Julia Quinn

Are you for real?' I whispered against his lips. 'Yes or no.'
'You're killing me, princesa.' His words slid into my mouth as our bodies pressed together. — Sarah Ockler

You want me to paint you?' Genna spoke up raising an eyebrow of displeasure.
'All of me.' James bowed his head to Genevieve and whispered the words slowly. — Tan Redding