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A man's style is his mind's voice. Wooden minds, wooden voices.
A man's style is his mind's voice. Wooden minds, wooden voices.
Her voice was like the voice the stars
Had when they sang together.
Her voice was like the voice the stars
Had when they sang together.
And rolling far along the gloomy shores
The voice of days of old and days to be.
And rolling far along the gloomy shores
The voice of days of old and days to be.
A Locanian having plucked all the feathers off from a nightingale
and seeing what a little body it had, read more
A Locanian having plucked all the feathers off from a nightingale
and seeing what a little body it had, "surely," quoth he, "thou
art all voice and nothing else." (Vox et praeterea nibil.)
Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innermost recesses of my spirit!
Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innermost recesses of my spirit!
There is no index of character so sure as the voice.
There is no index of character so sure as the voice.
There is no index so sure as the voice.
There is no index so sure as the voice.
His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets.
His voice was intimate as the rustle of sheets.
It is the still small voice that the soul heeds; not the deafening blasts of doom.
It is the still small voice that the soul heeds; not the deafening blasts of doom.
