Quotes & Sayings About Whispers

Virgil takes a slightly mashed Twinkie from his pocket and sets this on the counter between us and Ralph. "How old is that?" I murmur. "These things have enough preservatives in them to keep them on the shelves until 2050," Virgil whispers. — Jodi Picoult

It was true. Nothing was ever lost. And nothing was ever forgotten, no matter how painful. The city was like a heart that way. She had four chambers, too. She had arteries that led in and out. She kept things moving. She kept the oxygen flowing in and out, in and out, clean for dirty, dirty for clean, the filthy midnight whispers for the purest morning prayers — Jason Heller

Shhh..." He grips me closer to his body and then softly whispers in my ear, "I'm about to kiss you, and once I start I won't be able to stop. Just thought I should warn you. — Abi Ketner

He grabs my hands and lifts them up in the air. I grip the railing on the top of the bed.
"Don't move those hands," he whispers into my nape. I nod and lick my lips. I'm on my tiptoes. My breath is catching and coming out spurts of rough air. His hands run down my arms. I shiver and pant. His lips brush the back of my neck. He sweeps my hair to one side, kissing down my shoulder blade. Heat and nerves battle low in my belly as his hands grip my hips, pulling me back to him.
"Don't let go of that railing, Sarah." His words are growled between kisses and licks. I hear the menacing threat in them. — Tara Brown

You told me trees could speak
and the only reason one heard
silence in the forest
was that they had all been born knowing different languages.

That night I went into the forest
to bury dictionaries under roots,
so many books in so many tongues
as to insure speech.

and now this very moment,
the forest seems alive
with whispers and murmurs and rumblings of sound
wind-rushed into my ears.

I do not speak any language
that crosses the silence around me
but how soothing to know
that the yearning and grasping embodied
in trees' convoluted and startling shapes
is finally being fulfilled
in their wind shouts to each other.

Yet we who both speak English
and have since we were born
are moving ever farther apart
even as branch tips touch. — Carol Goodman

This time I keep to the long shadows where the darkness gathers thickest, picking my way across the silvery damp grass until I reach the edge of the world. Below, the rocks and waves are grinding against each other, and the wind sucks at me, begging me to take one more step, to throw myself down. Sacrifice, the water says in its sea-witch voice, full of whispers and promises. Sometimes I have to wonder if the Hob belief that the sea is animate, alive and full of magic, is more than just primitive nonsense. — Cat Hellisen

Jess." He whispers. "That was far from manhandling you sweetheart. I'm just claiming what I want, and make no mistake," He places tender kisses along my jaw leading down to my neck. "I. Always. Get. What. I. Want." He breathes in between kisses. "You would do pretty well to remember that." -Max Wild — S.M. Phillips

Love's whispers drown out sorrow's echoes. — Matshona Dhliwayo

Kiss the sky with me," Connor whispers, a beautiful smile pulling his lips, "and don't ever come down. — Krista Ritchie

Hopefully as you get older, you start to learn how to live with your demon. It's hard at first. Some people give their demon so much room that there is no space in their head or bed for love. They feed their demon and it gets really strong and then it makes them stay in abusive relationships or starve their beautiful bodies. But sometimes, you get a little older and get a little bored of the demon. Through good therapy and friends and self-love you can practice treating the demon like a hacky, annoying cousin. Maybe a day even comes when you are getting dressed for a fancy event and it whispers, "You aren't pretty," and you go, "I know, I know, now let me find my earrings." Sometimes you say, "Demon, I promise you I will let you remind me of my ugliness, but right now I am having hot sex so I will check in later. — Amy Poehler

Hemlock's attentions had not only healed Aelfric's body of its wounds but also given him curious sensitivity. Aside from the voice in his mind, he felt things in the natural surroundings: the presence of beasts, the whispers of trees to the overcast skies, anger in the earth and sea. Ravens followed him around as they did wolves. And he had developed a rough ability to see in the dark. — F.T. McKinstry

At night, the boy and the girl lie curled around each other in the belly of the ship. He holds her tight when she wakes from another nightmare, her teeth chattering, her ears ringing with the terrified screams of the men and women she left behind on the broken skiff, her limbs trembling with remembered power. "It's all right," he whispers in the darkness. "It's all right." She wants to believe him, but she's afraid to close her eyes. The — Leigh Bardugo

He spoke on rising toes, on rolling ankles, he spoke with forward tilt, with lifted shoulders, with forefinger pointing and fist punching. He did verbal pirouettes, he did elongated sentences, he let clauses gather at the river and foam until they found spittle release. He spoke hushed, he spoke his big points in whispers, then drove them in with urgent balletic waves of arm and extended eyebrow as he said the same thing again only louder. He was not then a guns and bombs nationalist. He was the more dangerous kind. He was a poems and stories one. — Niall Williams

I just hate to see you like this," he says. "Isn't there anything I can do?"

You could murder Vaughn. You could free Gabriel. You could help repair the damage that's been done to our home. By you.

This room is surely being recorded, though, and all I say is, "No."

He tilts my chin, and then he cups his hands around my ear and whispers, "I don't believe that."

I look at him, and I see the same look in his eyes as on the morning when I told him I was going to bring Linden home. Vaughn may be Rowan's benefactor, but I'm his twin sister. Even after this time spent apart, he can read me. — Lauren DeStefano

You are so full of light," I say after a moment. "You align with joy, and I with fear and fury. If you could see into my thoughts, you would surely turn away. So why would you stay with me, even if return to Kenettra and resume our lives?"

"You paint me as a saint," he murmurs. "But I aligned with greed solely to prevent that."

Even now, he can make my lips twitch with a smile. "I'm serious, Magiano."

"As am I. None of us are saints. I have seen your darkness, yes, and know your struggle. I won't deny it." He touches my chin with one hand. At this gesture, the whispers seem to settle, pushed away where I can't hear them. "But you are also passionate and ambitious and loyal. You are a thousand things, mi Adelinetta, not just one. Do not reduce yourself to that. — Marie Lu

Would it not be wiser, then, to remit this part of reading and to allow the critics, the gowned and furred authorities of the library, to decide the question of the book's absolute value for us? Yet how impossible! We may stress the value of sympathy; we may try to sink our identity as we read. But we know that we cannot sympathise wholly or immerse ourselves wholly; there is always a demon in us who whispers, "I hate, I love", and we cannot silence him. Indeed, it is precisely because we hate and we love that our relation with the poets and novelists is so intimate that we find the presence of another person intolerable. And even if the results are abhorrent and our judgments are wrong, still our taste, the nerve of sensation that sends shocks through us, is our chief illuminant; we learn through feeling; we cannot suppress our own idiosyncrasy without impoverishing it. — Virginia Woolf

Subtle whispers in my sleep remind me that angels are even with me in my dreams. Tarnished halos with tattered wings, they never rest when watching over me. — Patricia H. Graham

Can we walk for a bit?" he says.

"Yes, that would be lovely." But as I start getting up I lose my footing and slip and fall - right over the shingle. If I'd been doing a stunt in an action-adventure movie it would have probably looked spectacular but in the context of a romantic makeup it looks totally ridiculous.

"Are you OK?" Noah calls over to me.

I scramble up, my face red with embarrassment.

"That was an awesome body roll. I wanna try." Noah takes a step back before hurling himself over the shingle. He crashes into me and we land on the beach in a tangled heap. And as we laugh our heads off, the very last traces of tension between us disappear.

"I've missed you so much, Inciting Incident," he whispers.
- Zoe Sugg (Girl Online (Girl Online, #1)) — Zoe Sugg

If you listen long enough to the whispers, you will hear the truth. Until then, I will tell you this: the world is made safe by a woman. She bound the monster up and cast him out, and the man who was left was saved. — E.K. Johnston

Your voice so sweet and tender whispers lovely lullabies.
Making me swoon in awe as we dream under the night skies.
Leaving me nostalgic until we both say our goodbyes.
Kissing away our dreams as we wipe the tears from our eyes.
Wishing upon each star until the sunrise. — Raneem Kayyali

Mon Dieu, look, look," says Antoinette. "He lives. He lives! And he seems such the happy mouse."
"Forgiven," whispers Lester.
"Cripes," says Furlough, "unbelievable."
"Just so," says the threadmaster, Hovis, smiling. "Just so."
And, reader, it is just so.
Isn't it? — Kate DiCamillo

St. Augustine is not only the oldest continuously-occupied European settlement on the American continent, it is also perhaps the most haunted city in the United States. Seemingly every spot in this city has some ghostly hidden history, right below the surface. Just by strolling through the historic streets you can hear the whispers of the long-dead. — James Caskey

Why do you have your gun out?" she whispers, following right behind me. "Always be prepared," I tell her as we step inside. I close the door behind me, locking the deadbolt and the top lock. "Boy Scout motto, isn't it?" "Yes, but when they go camping, they bring extra matches. Not firearms. — Karina Halle

True closeness respects each other's space.
You can never get any measuring instrument to compare and set on a pedestal how one truly cares for you in any kind of relationship.
There is a big difference between closeness and dependency,
compassionate, honest, generous, humble heart than
prejudiced, jealous, insecure heart.
Each one should respect the growth of a relationship as we all evolve in a world interconnected with many hearts, minds and souls. — Angelica Hopes

I've always understood that my heart is multilingual. It speaks in whispers, expressions, colours, body, songs, and fervent desire. — Cheri Bauer

I would like to invite you to savour every moment of this experiential journey. Feel the energies of the earth, listen to them calling on the wind, whispering their secrets and beckoning you to explore their mysteries. — Carole Carlton

She had not known how to tell him that his loving whispers were always in her ears, like a story she'd been told, the story of a thing she did not deserve. But he understood. He called those thoughts "the baby teeth of a snake," and swore he would rip them out of her, and pledged to prove to her that the opposite was true. And he didn't even have to explain to her what he meant by "the opposite"; she knew it was the opposite of her. — David Grossman

Never promise things you can't deliver," I whisper.
"I can try," he whispers back, and I hate myself because I smile. — Amanda Bouchet

When the zipper snaps open, Ben pauses, his breath hot in my ear. "Janelle Tenner," he whispers. "I fucking love you. — Elizabeth Norris

Want to know something?" he whispers into my ear. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And I love you. — Courtney Cole

Doubt had married my fear and moved into my mind, where it built castles and ruled kingdoms and reigned over me, bowing my will to its whispers until I was little more than an acquiescing peon, too terrified to disobey, too terrified to disagree. — Tahereh Mafi

I'm so in love with you," he whispers, the roughness of his cheek pressed against mine. "So in love. There is no bottom. I just keep falling. — Karina Halle

When fears are screaming in your ears, try to hear the whispers of your faith and run into that dark path. That is how you reach the paradise. — Akshay Vasu

The muse whispers to you when she chooses, and you can't tell her to come back later, because you quickly learn in this business that she might not come back at all. — Terry Brooks

Vaughn is talking about the heat, and his voice is so excited that it breaks into whispers at times. He loves his madness the way a bird loves the sky. — Lauren DeStefano

Be careful," he says.
"Why?" I'm not thinking about being careful. I'm thinking about one last push, of letting go, of flying, and of falling.
"You aren't allowed to die without me," he whispers. — Jasmine Warga

I love you."
"Why?" I ask, eyes drifting closed already.
"Because I can't picture a life without you," he whispers so low I barely catch it. "I don't want to."
I smile as much as I can with how sleepy I am. He didn't even rehearse that one.
His lips graze my forehead. "Why do you love me?"
"Because you say things like that."
"Wow. My answer was so much better than yours. — Cassie Mae

I know who you are," Jack whispers. "I've always known you." His hands glide up my arms, from the angles of my wrists to the creases of my elbows. He presses his mouth to my left ear - I shiver from his breath. "You're a force to be reckoned with. — Caroline George

He keeps his arms away from me, but eventually, holding him, I feel him tuck his chin over my head. Then he whispers, "You're the sweetest girl, the best girl, I ever kissed, Carrie West," and rubs his face into my hair like a child, breathing deep. — Mary Ann Rivers

O mere mercy....
message: My heart longs to hear...
Through all these
Wind whispers
Rain recalls
Crickets cry
Damp and dark
I sit here under the night sky
Trough all these sweet noise
Why o why ?
A mere call of mercy doesn't reach
this lonely soul of mine ? O mere mercy... — A.I. Akram

Jesus whispers consolation; I cannot refuse it; I will sit under His shadow with great delight. — Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Miya? What are you doing?"
I drop to my knees and hold my hands out to stop her.
"Murderer..." she whispers.
I shake my head, suddenly scared. "No..."
"Monster," she says, louder this time.
She swings the sword in a large arc, aiming for my head. I flinch away just as its sharp edge reaches my skin... — Dannielle Wicks

Leaning down, he whispers for my ears alone. Prove them wrong. — Sophie Jordan

If I turn up the music of busyness, I will miss the whispers of God's call. — Diane Moody

Seventy-six years old," she whispers, "and I can still feel like this? Like a little girl with stars in my eyes? — Anthony Doerr

The whispers inside the red wheelbarrow's dew. — Cameron Conaway

The willow is full plumage and is no help, with its insinuating whispers.
Rendevous, it says. Terraces;
the sibilants run up my spine, a shiver as if in fever. The summer dress rustles against the flesh of my thighs, the grass grows underfoot, at the edges of my eyes there are movements, in the branches; feathers, flittings, grace notes, tree into bird, metamorphosis run wild. Goddesses are possible now and the air suffuses with desire ...
Winter is not so dangerous. I need hardness, cold, rigidity; not this heaviness, as if I'm a melon on a stem, this liquid ripeness. — Margaret Atwood

Who values the past lives sentimentally.
Who optimizes the present grabs opportunity.
Who balances time creates harmony.
Who disturbs harmony leads complexity.
Who solves complexity opens continuity. — Angelica Hopes

Adam leans into my ear. I feel the soft whispers of his breath just before he begins to speak.
"You guys are disgusting, you know that, right?"
I look up, startled, and find Kenji frozen midmovement, his spoon halfway to his mouth, his head cocking in our direction. He gestures with his spoon at our faces. "What the hell is this? You guys playing footsie under the table or someshit? — Tahereh Mafi

C. S. Lewis introduced the phrase "pain, the megaphone of God." "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains," he said; "it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."3 The word megaphone is apropos, because by its nature pain shouts. When I stub my toe or twist an ankle, pain loudly announces to my brain that something is wrong. Similarly, the existence of suffering on this earth is, I believe, a scream to all of us that something is wrong. It halts us in our tracks and forces us to consider other values. — Philip Yancey

... the same kind of answers the stars are always trying to give us, she thought, when we look up and up at them. So high above, speaking in gradual whispers about time, about their own flaming hearts and the endless cold that lies between ... — Eileen Wilks

I think [James] Joyce sometimes enjoyed misleading his readers. He said to me that history was like that parlor game where someone whispers something to the person next to him, who repeats it not very distinctly to the next person, and so on until, by the time the last person hears it, it comes out completely transformed. Of course, as he explained to me, the meaning in Finnegans Wake is obscure because it is a 'nightpiece.' I think, too, that, like the author's sight, the work is often blurred. — Sylvia Beach

Harper, I ... "
You don't have to say it."
I don't?"
I know."
You know what?"
I lean against him, nestling in the crook of his arm. I talk into his neck. I don't need to be able to see to find the parts of him I know.
That morning in the trailer, when we had it to ourselves, and you made me breakfast, I wondered whether you would tell me you loved me, if you'd ever tell me, and I looked at you, and I thought you were going to say it, but instead you went off on a tangent about boysenberry jam."
And?"
And it was funny. And it was close enough to the real thing for me. Just sitting there with you like that."
Boysenberry jam?"
Boysenberry jam."
Harper," he whispers into my hair.
Yeah?"
I boysenberry jam you. — Dana Reinhardt

Sometimes He whispers, sometimes He shouts, but God does speak to us through His Word. — K. Kandel

Art history is a global version of that old children's game Chinese whispers. — Grayson Perry

You're my lifeline, he whispers, and he kisses my knuckles before pressing my palm against his. — E.L. James

Don't think," whispers Satan: he knows that an unconverted heart is like a dishonest businessman's financial records, they will not bear close inspection. "Consider your ways," says the Word of God
stop — J.C. Ryle

[Ana] "You're a sadist?"
"I'm a Dominant." His eyes are a scorching gray, intense.
"What does that mean?" I whisper.
"It means I want you to willingly surrender yourself to me, in all things."
I frown at him as I try to assimilate this idea.
"Why would I do that?"
"To please me," he whispers as he cocks his head to one side, and I see a ghost of a smile.
Please him! He wants me to please him! I think my mouth drops open. Please Christian Grey. And I realize, in that moment, that yes, that's exactly what I want to do. I want him to be damned delighted with me. It's a revelation. — E.L. James

The grief that does not speak whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids it break. — William Shakespeare

All the while the acid of overactivity eats holes in our souls. And from those holes leaks the cry of the unfulfilled calling that never quite happened. We said yes to so much that we missed what I call our "Best Yes" assignments - simply because we didn't heed the warning of the whispers within that subtle space. — Lysa TerKeurst

I love you more than she does, cocaine whispers. — Mary Elizabeth

The universe sings a deep, eternal song, sound in waves, in deep sighs, in whispers, in swirling chords and rising, falling tones. The music of the worlds, weaving in a pattern that is both chaos and order, both beauty and terror, without beginning, without end. — Jessica Khoury

Hmmm, good isn't fun, but I'll try," he whispers to me. ~ The Light Tamer — Devyn Dawson

He leans forward, his lips an inch from mine. And very deeply, very huskily, he whispers, "What do you want, Maximoff? — Krista Ritchie

I can't pinpoint what exactly it is until Silas steps behind my sister and delicately runs his fingers through her hair, his handle gentle as if he's touching a priceless jewel. Rosie blushes as he leans into her and whispers something in her ear that makes her lips curve up in an elegant smile. I recognize the look in Silas's eyes - adoration. — Jackson Pearce

There were shadows in the corners and whispers on the stairs and time was irrelevant as honesty. — V.C. Andrews

Mistrust is the fuel for so much mental pain, so many mental disorders. I am not talking here about the suspicions we sometimes have of one another, the distant but lurking sense that perhaps our lover lies to us, our best friend whispers behind our back. I am talking about a belief that betrayal inundates the atoms of the universe, is so woven into the workings of the world that every step is treacherous, and that below the rich mud lies a mine. — Lauren Slater

I listened to God and to my husband, not the the enemy's whispers, not to other people's opinions. — Lynn Austin

Keep your shit together and stay strong, he whispers in my ear. — Kathleen Glasgow

I had always heard rumors of her, Nanook thought, she who can control the wind, the water, the earth, and fire ... she who can talk to time. But those were old myths of a woman who lived many thousands of years ago, the first daughter of the Earth. There is a prophecy that she will return again, during the end times -- every religion has someone like that, someone to wait for and put your faith in, but my culture had mostly covered up her existence. We had a god of the sea, a god of the land, a god of the air, a god of fire, but no one who could control all of the elements. We spoke, only in whispers, of the ancient bloodline -- the descendents of the Great Mother. Too many superstitious minds, too many men concerned only with their own power and position, had heard these whispers in the past and taken gruesome steps to erase the descendents. The lineage was said to be broken, the blood of the Great Mother spilled for the last time. — Sarah Warden

When I write this in bed, I can almost hear the echo of the wind over the sand, or the groans of wooden panels around me. I can almost smell the dustiness of the camel, taste the bitterness of saltbush. And when I dream, your warm hands cover my shoulders. Your whispers carry stories and sound like the rustle of spinifex. I still wear that ring, you know ... at night, when no one is watching. — Lucy Christopher

Bryce," she whispers. "What's wrong."
I can barely breathe as I ask her, "Do you like him?"
"Do I ... you mean Jon?"
"Yes!"
"Well, sure. He's nice and -"
"No, do you like him?" My heart was pounding through my chest as I took her other hand and waited.
"Well, no. I mean, not like that ... "
No! She said no! I didn't care where I was, I didn't care who saw. I wanted, just had to kiss her. I leaned in, closed my eyes, and then ... — Wendelin Van Draanen

I told her that the pills will let her slip off and that when a person dies there comes a long clean sleep."
"That's all," Alexandria whispers, echoing after her, "a long clean sleep. — Annie Fisher

Satan is screaming lies over us all day long. And God whispers the truth is a still, small voice. So often the voice we listen to most is the one we hear loudest. — Steven Curtis Chapman

I'd never been a talker in sex. Never saw the allure of dirty whispers. But now all I could think about was talking filthy and wrong. — Pepper Winters

Why do you hate yourself?"
And before I know it, Gat is lying on the bed next to me. His cold fingers wrap around my hot ones, and his face is close to mine. He kisses me. "Because I want things I can't have," he whispers. — E. Lockhart

It's that the silence hanging between us, the awkward and painful glance we share, acknowledges that I'm sitting in his seat. I start to stand up, but Ely shakes his head and gestures for me to stay seated. "It's cool," he whispers. I watch him stride away to the elevator. — Rachel Cohn

Opportunities are whispers, not foghorns. — Sean Patrick

Tania," he whispers, "promise me you won't forget me when I die."
"You won't die, soldier," she says. "You won't die. Live! Live on, breathe on, claw onto life, and do not let go. Promise me you will live for me, and I promise you, when you're done, I will be waiting for you." She is sobbing. "Whenever you're done, Alexander, I will be here, waiting for you. — Paullina Simons

I returned home tormented by the little demon who whispers into our ear the devastating replies we didn't give at the right time, — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Every blade of grass has its Angel that bends over it and whispers, "Grow, grow." - The Talmud — Sapphire.

Sardar Harbans Singh passed away peacefully in a wicker rocking-chair in a Srinigar garden of spring flowers and honeybees with his favourite tartan rug across his knees and his beloved son, Yuvraj the exporter of handicrafts, by his side, and when he stopped breathing the bees stopped buzzing and the air silenced its whispers and Yuvraj understood that the story of the world he had known all his life was coming to an end, and that what followed would follow as it had to, but it would unquestionably be less graceful, less courteous and less civilized than what had gone. — Salman Rushdie

Tell me what it will take, Jay?" His voice whispers in my ear. "I want you." ~ Rhye — Nicole Reed

Love," she whispers.
"Luffs!" I respond, and her smile brightens even more. — Shay Savage

Don't you look at me like that, Ror," he whispers. I meet his eyes again. "Like what?" He stares at me a moment, then shakes his head as if to clear it. — Danielle Pearl

Do me a favor," he whispers, curling my fingers over the back of his and bringing them to his mouth. "What?" His eyes never leave mine as he brushes his lips over my knuckles. "Dream of me tonight," he says softly. He watches me, waiting for a response. I have no words, so I simply nod. He doesn't need to know that no one else occupies my dreams. No one. "Dream of my lips, teasing you." Straightening one of my fingers, he kisses the tip. His voice is like velvet and his words are like an aphrodisiac. "Dream of my tongue, tasting you." His tongue sneaks out to flick the end of my finger. A surge of desire rocks my core. "And I'll dream of you. Of what it feels like to be inside your warm, wet body. — M. Leighton

Oh my gosh," Somer whispers, one hand flying up to her mouth. "She's beautiful."
Krishnan fumbles with the papers and reads, "Asha. That's her name. Ten months old."
"What does it mean?" she asks.
"Asha? Hope." He looks up at her, smiling. "It means hope."
"Really?" She gives a little laugh, crying as well. "Well, she must be ours then."
She grasps his hand, intertwining their fingers, and kisses him.
"That's perfect, really perfect."
She rests her head on his shoulder as they stare at the photo together.
For the first time in a very long time, Somer feels a lightness in her chest. How can it be I'm already in love with this child, half a world away? The next morning, they send a telegram to the orphanage, stating they are coming to get their daughter. — Shilpi Somaya Gowda

Maybe," he whispers, his mouth against my forehead. "But it's been ages since I've felt as human as you make me feel. I've tried not to want you, but I cant bring myself to stay away. — Lisa Maxwell

Even in the fiercest uproar of our stormy passions, conscience, though in her softest whispers, gives to the supremacy of rectitude the voice of an undying testimony. — Thomas Chalmers

I just want to sleep. A coma would be nice. Or amnesia. Anything, just to get rid of this, these thoughts, whispers in my mind. Did he rape my head, too? — Laurie Halse Anderson

Jutta whispers, A girl got kicked out of the swimming hole today. Inge Hachmann. They said they wouldn't let us swim with a half-breed. Unsanitary. A half-breed, Werner. Aren't we half-breeds too? Aren't we half our mother, half our father? — Anthony Doerr

Whenever Insecurity whispers In your ear, telling you how much you suck, tell it to shut the hell up. Then keep going forward anyway. — Rebecca O'Donnell

You're so beautiful. Your eyes are like the water you see in those pictures of paradise. A color that can't be described because a word for it can't do it justice. And your hair is gold, like the sun. You're my paradise, Blue. You and Ark are all I have left."
"I'm yours, JD. If you want me, I'm yours."
"No, Blue," he whispers back. "You're ours. — J.A. Huss

[On Washington, D.C.:] There was no other city in the world where rumor fed upon itself so virulently. Whispers wiped out careers just as cholera destroyed its human victims. — Evelyn Anthony

Americans whisper the word Alzheimer's because their government whispers the word Alzheimer's. And although a whisper is better than the silence that the Alzheimer's community has been facing for decades, it's still not enough. It needs to be yelled and screamed to the point that it finally gets the attention and the funding that it deserves and needs. — Seth Rogen

When he read, it was as if he were transported to some dreamland where he could not hear whispers or shouting. — Jeff Wheeler

I do have a point to all this," she continues. "There are like twenty people in that waiting room right now. Some of them are related to you. Some of them are not. But we're all your family." She stops now. Leans over me so that the wisps of her hair tickle my face. She kisses me on the forehead. "You still have a family," she whispers. — Gayle Forman

The frail letters on the first page were barely legible; they looked like whispers, if whispers had form. — Susan Meissner

The world is truly a terrible place. Every one of my generation is lost, filling the holes which are their lives with seditious and yet passionless acts of unnecessary drama. It is a world of hypocrisy and whispers, a dark mine shaft of overfed, spoiled, and thankless slaves too stupid to realize that, despite their steady stream of shallow luxuries, they are still slaves. — Jason S. Hornsby

Silence sits immense upon my soul. Then comes hope with a smile and whispers, "There is joy in self-forgetfulness. — Helen Keller