Above all her voice moved him. He had not known that an accent seduced his emotions. But he’d always been drawn to those with an accent. Be it woman or man. It sounded nicer. A lavender husk. More proper, elegant. His attuned ear seemed to be remembering voices from another life, another time. He could never escape the sense that he’d lost a life dear to him and that life was lived in another language.-from Who Has Known Heights: The Mystique Memoirs of a Melancholic Mind
~ Wheston Chancellor Grove
