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Voices
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“When she gets excited, her voice rises to a pitch generally considered suitable only for hog-calling.”
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“... voices ... must go deeper into us than other things. I have often fancied heaven might be made of voices.”
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“Her voice had the compulsion of a hand.”
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“His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets ... ”
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“The man sang as only birds and Italians sing.”
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“ She had one of those high-pitched apologetic voices which seemed to make every pronouncement sound like a spirit message, inconclusive but faintly ominous.”
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“All the intelligence and talent in the world can't make a singer. The voice is a wild thing. It can't be bred in captivity.”
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“His voice is like embattled mice, small and shrill ...”
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“Her voice was heavy, throaty, expressionless. She threw it like a weapon ...”
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“But then, there comes that moment rare / When, for no cause that I can find, / The little voices of the air / Sound above all the sea and wind.”
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“Her voice had the sway of an aerialist crossing the high wire ...”
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“[At age 14:] I wish I could describe the beautiful singing of the students! If one could imagine such a thing as a wood with leaves of thin steel — small singing leaves on long vibrating stems — and that there came, now a soft breeze, now a powerful storm, which set all the tiny leaves into motion, I wonder if it would be like the students' singing.”
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“His tone was about as informative, and as welcoming, as a blank wall with broken glass on the top.”
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“... a voice of a gray suede glove, sliding down a banister.”
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“... her voice was as huskily sweet as a cello played with a peppermint candy-stick bow.”
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“Her voice had a sort of muffled violence like a buzzsaw eating its way through a bale of cotton.”
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“... her voice went up the Major's back and around his neck like a woman's arm.”
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“His voice sounded like two hands rubbing together.”
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“'... take it from me, nice women don't want the vote.' His voice dripped fatness.”
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“I have one thing in common with the emerging black nations of Africa: We both have voices, and we are discovering what we can do with them.”
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“My voice had a long, nonstop career. It deserves to be put to bed with quiet and dignity, not yanked out every once in a while to see if it can still do what it used to do. It can't.”
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“Whether we want to or not, the minute we open our mouths we give clues about where we grew up, about our gender, about our ethnicity, about our social class, even about our sexual orientation. The voice has evolved as the medium of communication for human beings, but it communicates far more than words: we are all adept at reading between the lines when people speak.”
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“... her voice ... slides over her words like cold water, as though they were stones and had no life.”
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“He would sit singing, his cheeks turning red above his whiskers; but his voice always came out deep and steady, like the sound of long ago, if long ago could make a sound instead of being forever lost and silent.”
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“His voice had a low, throaty, animal quality, a sneering warmth that wound a velvet ribbon of sexuality over the outward coarseness of the man.”
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“A loud voice is not always angry; a soft voice not always to be dismissed; and a well-placed silence can be the indisputable last word.”
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“My voice is my instrument. ... It is not in the throat, from where it appears to come. It is in my feet and how they touch the floor, in my legs and how they lift and sink with the rhythm of the song. It is in my hips and belly and lower back ...”
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“It was the sort of voice you'd like to read you a story before you went to sleep.”
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“I am the first instrument. I am the voice. I do not imitate other instruments. Other instruments imitate me.”
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“i wanna go see her and ask her if she will teach us how to use our voices like she used hers on that old 78 record ...”
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“Her voice was sharp and probing, like a needle in the hands of a nervous nurse.”