“Oh yes. His voice has music.”
“Oh, a very sorry people, yes,Did I find here.Oh, they had no music,And they had no beer.And, oh, everywhereWhere they tried to perchBelonged to Castle Sugar, Incorporated,Or the Catholic church.”
“Oh that voice, so sweet. Rich, like the taste of vanilla ice cream, vowels like flute music, warm caramel consonants. She could float in that voice forever and not miss a thing.”
“His voice was melted sex. Yes, melted...sex.”
“Two Windclan apprentices were wandering toward them. Fireheart twitched his ears to warn his friends they had an audience. "Oh, yes," meowed Ravenpaw, raising his voice. "We loners eat Clan apprentices whenever we can catch one.”
“She poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the thirst of his spirit. ”