His voice a whisper, he said, "I think there's another ship out there."

The voice in the Bursar's head thought: but a bird must fly.

I can't figure out what the voice was thinking.

And if that little voice thought she was going to open all those suitcases again, it was crazy.

His voice was almost a monotone, the voice of a man thinking out loud.

A pretty voice, he thought, but it was the happiness in it that drew him back to the kitchen.

He heard Monica's voice, thought he glanced at her for a moment from the corner of his eye.

It was soft and low, a feminine voice, he thought.

A voice that would one day hold power, thought Garshon.

And the voice in my head now thinks it's my mother.