“Did somebody whisper something? I look left then right. Uh oh. I think I'm hearing voices now. Not, I AM hearing voices I THINK I'm hearing voices. Okay not voices, just a voice. Is thinking you heard it better or worse than knowning you heard it? Does the distinction matter?”

“Oliver...''What?''I do like you.''But?''I just don't want you to think that I'm... that is, I'm really not looking for...''Hey.' I could hear the faint smile in his voice. 'It's a book, not an etching.”

“Six silent people in a room got me to thinking about the voice we hear in our heads when we read, the universal narrator's voice you may well be hearing right now. Whose voice *is* it you're hearing? It's not your own, is it? I didn't think so. It never is. So I posed the question out loud...”"...When you read a book, whose voice is it you hear inside your head?" "It's certainly not my own", said Harj, and the others chimed in with the same claim."Then whose it?”

“For myself, for a long time... maybe I felt inauthentic or something, I felt like my voice wasn't worth hearing, and I think everyone's voice is worth hearing. So if you've got something to say, say it from the rooftops.”

“I told you once,” said Red, “that I wanted to hear your voice. I did not think the first words I would hear would be these.”“Those were not the first words,” I whispered, fighting tears. I would not weep.”

“The secretary moved in to block Simon as I followed Thierry into the office. As the door closed, I heard her whisper, "I think it's very sweet, you sticking up for your brother like that.""I'm not trying to be sweet," Simon said, raising his voice so Thierry could hear. "I'm trying to be fair. But apparently no one's interested in that.”