A Quote by Stephenie Meyer
Let me guess,' Ian said in a voice like ice. 'You fell on a rock.
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Ian didn't come. He just sat here with you--he said he didn't care what you looked like. He wouldn't let anyone else put a finger on your tank at all, not even me or Mel. But Doc let me watch this time. It was way cool, Wanda. I don't know why you wouldn't let me watch before. They wouldn't let me help, though. Ian wouldn't let anyone touch you but him.' Ian squeezed my hand and leaned in to whisper through all the hair. His voice was so low that I was the only one who could hear. 'I held you in my hand, Wanderer. And you were so beautiful.
Can we move this along?" a bored voice stated. "I have places to be and people to shag." "Ian, I'm not going to hug you," I stated as I approached him. "I know you like this better." With that, I slapped him hard enough to rock his head to the side. When he'd straightened, he flashed me a wicked grin. "Finally, you give me what I want. Knew you loved me, Reaper.
I went to acting school with Mario Van Peebles. For a little while, he was at the same school. So he asked me if I wanted to do [ New Jack City]. He said, "There's not really a role. We'll figure something out. But would you like to?" And I was like, "Sure." 'Cause he said it was Chris Rock and Ice T's first movie.
I met Ian McKellen queueing for returns and he said, 'Are you wearing your tights under your trousers?' and I said, 'How on earth did you guess that?' and he said, 'Because I'm wearing mine.'
I've been mistagged. I like ice climbing, but I do a lot more rock climbing. Ice is just more mysterious and changeable than rock.
When I was 16, walking down Oxford Street, I saw Ian Brown. I said, 'Are you Ian Brown?' He said no and walked off, but I am sure it was him.
Rock and roll kind of screwed up my voice poetically. I found myself having this 'Beat' voice in my poems. It was like this self-fulfilled prophecy because everybody was calling me this rock poet, this Beat poet.
The computer beeped as the upload completed. A moment later, Ian Kabra appeared on the screen. Dan was surprised. "Hey, Ian, isn't it, like, two in the morning back there?" "It's called jet lag," Ian informed him. "I'm still on London time. I don't suppose you savages have any tea in this mausoleum." "There's a diet Snapple in the fridge." Ian shuddered. "I thought not.
A friend of mine, a poet, Rebecca Wolff recently said to me, "You know, your stories are really voice-driven," and I guess I knew that already, but it's so true that I can't get something going unless I can hear the voice.
Don’t ever leave me again,” I said in a tiny voice. I won’t,” he promised into my hair, sounding most un-Fang-like. “I won’t. Not ever.” And just like that, a cold shard of ice that had been inside my chest ever since we’d split up-well, it just disappeared. I felt myself relax for the first time in I don’t known how long. The wind was chilly, but the sun was bright, and my whole flock was together. Fang and I were together. Excuse me? I’m alive too.” Iggy’s plaintive voice made me pull back.
I like all like classic rock bands like The Beatles and The Who and stuff and Led Zeppelin so I kinda dress like that. Kinda retro I guess. Well not retro but, like tight. I don't know. Like just jeans and shirts. I don't know. Kinda rock and roll I guess.
Whitney Houston's voice was the very first voice I fell in love with. She was the voice that made me want to become a singer.
Wanderer: You don't really feel that way about me you know. It's this body... she's pretty isn't she? Ian: She is. Melanie is a very pretty girl. Even beautiful. But pretty as she is, she is a stranger to me. She's not the one I... care about. Wanderer: It's this body. Ian: That's not true at all. It's not the face, but the expressions on it. It's not the voice, but what they say. It's not how you look like in that body, it's what you do with it. You are beautiful.
So I went down my local ice-cream shop, and said 'I want to buy an ice-cream'. He said Hundreds & thousands?' I said 'We'll start with one.' He said 'Knickerbocker glory?' I said 'I do get a certain amount of freedom in these trousers, yes.'
No one wants to hear you speak, Bradie Boy," Kitten said in that scratchy voice of hers. "Like that's ever stopped me. I can't believe we've got a bird and a cat in the car." Bradley chuckled. "I guess that makes me animal control. Nice." "I'm a Teran," Kitten said tightly, "not a cat. And if I hear you call me a cat one more time, I'll scratch your eyes out. Understand?" "Oh, I understand. I just don't think you'll like what I'm understanding, which is that you can't wait to get your hands on me.
[Someone] said that what I described as the Buddhist voice - the life-denying voice of censure and guilt - sounded to him very much like a Catholic voice. This is, indeed, a mystery, and it intrigues me, too.
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