Quotes
Quotes about Voice
They are immobile and voiceless, and cannot ask for the mercy of water, those trapped caged house plants. In the winter they feel no breeze nor are they touched by a hand which frees.
Nothing lowers the level on conversation more than raising the voice.
There was a place in childhood that I remember well, And there a voice of sweetest tone bright fairy tales did tell.
What is the voice of strange command Calling you still, as friend calls friend, With love that cannot brook delay, To rise and follow the ways that wend Over the hills and far away.
Cast not the clouded gem away, Quench not the dim but living ray,-- My brother man, Beware! With that deep voice which from the skies Forbade the Patriarch's sacrifice. God's angel, cries, Forbear!
Her voice, the music of the spheres, So loud, it deafens mortals' ears; As wise philosophers have thought, And that's the cause we hear it not.
May you live to be 100 and may the last voice you hear be mine.
Among all nations there should be vast temples raised where people might worship in silence and listen to it, for it is the voice of God
Violence in the voice is often only the death rattle of reason in the throat.
Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.
Flow on, forever, in thy glorious robe Of terror and of beauty. Yea, flow on Unfathomed and resistless. God hath set His rainbow on thy forehead: and the cloud Mantled around thy feet. And He doth give Thy voice of thunder power to speak of Him Eternally--bidding the lip of man Keep silence--and upon thine altar pour Incense of awe-struck praise.
The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind: There all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown.
Soft as Memnon's harp at morning, To the inward ear devout, Touched by light, with heavenly warning Your transporting chords ring out. Every leaf in every nook, Every wave in every brook, Chanting with a solemn voice Minds us of our better choice.
"Oh, ship ahoy!" rang out the cry; "Oh, give us water or we die!" A voice came o'er the waters far, "Just drop your bucket where you are." And then they dipped and drank their fill Of water fresh from mead and hill; And then they knew they sailed upon The broad mouth of the Amazon.
The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs thro' the arched roof in words deceiving.
Besides, as is usually the case, we are much more affected by the words which we hear, for though what you read in books may be more pointed, yet there is something in the voice, the look, the carriage, and even the gesture of the speaker, that makes a deeper impression upon the mind. [Lat., Praeterea multo magis, ut vulgo dicitur viva vox afficit: nam licet acriora sint, quae legas, ultius tamen in ammo sedent, quae pronuntiatio, vultus, habitus, gestus dicentis adfigit.]
Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; Till at his second bidding darkness fled, Light shone, and order from disorder sprung.
Kathleen Mavourneen, the gray dawn is breaking, The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill, The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking-- Kathleen Mavourneen, what, slumbering, still? Oh hast thou forgotten how soon we must sever? Oh hast thou forgotten this day we must part? It may be for years and it may be forever; Oh why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?
O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world, And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Which scorns a modern invocation.
There are many different voice and languages; but there is but one voice of the peoples when you are declared to be the true "Father of your country." [Lat., Vox diversa sonat: populorum est vox tamen una, Cum verus Patriae diceris esse Pater.]
Miracles seem to rest, not so much upon faces or voices or healing power coming suddenly near to us from far off, but upon our perceptions being made finer so that for a moment our eyes can see and our ears can hear that which is about us always. -Willa Cather.
The essentials of poetry are rhythm, dance, and the human voice.
"There's nothing great Nor small," has said a poet of our day, Whose voice will ring beyond the curfew of eve And not be thrown out by the matin's bell.
El Salvador is a democracy so it's not surprising that there are many voices to be heard here. Yet in my conversations with Salvadorans... I have heard a single voice.
