“His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend. His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract.”

“I took him by the arm to steady him. He opened his eyes slowly, the bright golden gleam now darkened with pain and sorrow. "Morgian!' he uttered, his voice strangled with grief. "It was Morgian. . . ”

“Uncle Jeb," we croaked in surprise. "You found us.""Well, now," he said, and his gruff voice brought back a hundred memories. "Well, now, here's a pickle.”

“He speaks in your voice, American, and there's a shine in his eye that's halfway hopeful.”

“His utter helplessness at the sight of my tears leaked through his confident voice. It was almost funny that such a great warrior as Hasani was reduced to panic at the sight of a stupid tear or two.”

“It was Lao Jian’s voice. He moved on too quick for our eyes to meet. For now, it was enough that I’d felt his breath, heard his voice, and saw his retreating form running toward the Trout Creek line.”