When he spoke, his rich, dramatic voice rolled across the House.

He had them then, as his powerful voice rolled over them.

The sound of approaching and excited voices rolled over them.

Even in the heat and movement of this place, his voice could roll me up and under.

Though he did not speak loudly, his deep voice rolled through the trees like thunder.

The voice rolled around to them like liquid amber, deep and rich.

His voice rolled out of the darkness and surrounded her, almost harsh.

Then the voices rolled in together, as if the whole mob had taken on a single heart and voice.

His voice rolled on through the building and was unanswered.

His voice rolled over the general babble, which died away.