Whispers Quotations

There's not a wind but whispers of thy name; And not a flow'r that grows beneath the moon, But in its hues and fragrance tells a tale Of thee, my love.

Everything is my demon muse. I have a muse which whispers in my ear and says, 'Do this, do that,' but it's my demon who provokes me.

We're going to come back the exact same way we left off -- as The Whispers. We do R&B music -- lyric-conscious music that speaks to the adults. That's what The Whispers are all about.

My first year as president I went around and asked what Marist had to work on. He said, 'He who whispers down a well about the things he has to sell will never have as many dollars as he who climbs a tree and hollers.' I never forgot that.

We have our quarterback whisper. I found that's a lot easier on the ears, ... That way nobody can hear anything but the center. So he just whispers to the center, we snap it and run plays that way.

While we would not get too excited, these data are just the right stuff to further trends already under way in financial markets. Whispers about Fed easing are sure to follow.

There Is A Voice Inside Of YouThat Whispers All Day Long,"I Feel That This Is Right For Me,I Know That This Is Wrong."No Teacher, Preacher, Parent, FriendOr Wise Man Can DecideWhat's Right For You- Just Listen ToThe Voice That Speaks Inside.

The South is full of memories and ghosts of the past. For me, it is the most inspiring place to write, from William Faulkner's haunted antebellum home to the banks of the Mississippi to the wind that whispers through the cotton fields.

Accept, accept that I have won, whispers the Devil. You can see for yourself that life is unjust, unfair, that suffering is ordinary. Who is stronger? I am, of course. Just despair, my dear, despair. Only tell me that I am strong, that Evil rules.

Food companies need to listen to the whispers before they become roars. If they're not careful, certain types of food could be legislated off the shelf.

You can't have a campaign for a nominee based on whispers and winks.

Music takes us out of the actual and whispers to us dim secrets that startle our wonder as to who we are, and for what, whence, and whereto.

Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.

. . . I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul. In my degradation I have not been so degraded but that the sight of you with your father, and of this home made such a home by you, has stirred old shadows that I thought had died out of me. Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a remorse that I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard whispers from old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were silent for ever. I have had unformed ideas of striving afresh, beginning anew, shaking off sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned fight. A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lay down, but I wish you to know that you inspired it.

In the words of the poet, When Duty whispers low, Thou must, this erstwhile youth replies, I just can't