“And then a low and powerful sound rumbles thru the sky, like some giant, deep horn.A sound God would make when he wanted yer attenshun.”

“I like you,” he rumbled. His voice was low and husky, and it sounded as if he hadn’t spoken in awhile. Unable to stop myself, the words just spilled from my lips. “And I should care because?”

“Romney sounds like he wants to be the nice uncle in a sitcom, Santorum sounds like he wants to be a twelfth-century archbishop, Gingrich sounds like he wants to go to outer space, and Paul sounds like he came from there.”

“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.”

“The rumble of the life outside was like the sound of the sea which was rising gradually around her.”

“With someone you like that much, the lows are as low as the highs are high. Does that make sense?'It does. It also makes me sound bipolar.'Love will do that to a person.”