A sweet voice, a little indistinct and muffled, which caresses
and does not thrill; an utterance which glides on read more

A sweet voice, a little indistinct and muffled, which caresses
and does not thrill; an utterance which glides on without
emphasis, and lays stress on what is deeply felt.

There is no index so sure as the voice.

There is no index so sure as the voice.

There is no index of character so sure as the voice.

There is no index of character so sure as the voice.

Your voice dries up if you don't use it.

Your voice dries up if you don't use it.

Her voice changed like a bird's:
There grew more of the music, and less of the words.

Her voice changed like a bird's:
There grew more of the music, and less of the words.

The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice,
An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.

The devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice,
An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.

The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
And read more

The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
And though the sound had parted thence,
Still left an echo in the sense.

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

Thy voice
Is a celestial melody.

. . . solitude is such a potential thing. We hear voices in solitude, we never hear in the hurry read more

. . . solitude is such a potential thing. We hear voices in solitude, we never hear in the hurry and turmoil of life; we receive counsels and comforts, we get under no other condition . . .