One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found.
~ A Storm of Swords
by George R. R. Martin
With every word she was drawing further and further into herself, so he gave that up and only the dead dream fought on as the afternoon slipped away, trying to touch what was no longer tangible, struggling unhappily, undespairingly, toward that lost voice across the room.
~ The Great Gatsby
by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Never are voices so beautiful as on a winter's evening, when dusk almost hides the body, and they seem to issue from nothingness with a note of intimacy seldom heard by day.
~ Night and Day
by Virginia Woolf
"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible," spoke the Beast, in a voice that was one great roar. "Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
~ The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
by L. Frank Baum
"Your voice and music are the same to me."
~ The Haunted Man
by Charles Dickens
The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
~ The Awakening
by Kate Chopin
He appeared to enjoy beyond everything the sound of his own voice. I couldn't wonder at that, for it was mellow and full and gave great importance to every word he uttered. He listened to himself with obvious satisfaction and sometimes gently beat time to his own music with his head or rounded a sentence with his hand.
~ Bleak House
by Charles Dickens
It was admitted on all sides that Challenger's opening half-hour was a magnificent display of oratory and argument. His deep organ voice -- such a voice as only a man with a fifty-inch chest can produce -- rose and fell in a perfect cadence which enchanted his audience.
~ The Land of Mist
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Within him, as he hurled himself forward, was born a love, a despairing fondness for this flag which was near him. It was a creation of beauty and invulnerability. It was a goddess, radiant, that bended its form with an imperious gesture to him. It was a woman, red and white, hating and loving, that called him with the voice of his hopes.
~ The Red Badge of Courage
by Stephen Crane
How lovely the little river is, with its dark changing wavelets! It seems to me like a living companion while I wander along the bank, and listen to its low, placid voice.
~ The Mill on the Floss
by George Eliot