1. "Hello?" "Ah, is this the ... Bow-shawmp residence?" There was no trace of a Texas twang in the caller's accent, nor anything of the South. "Beech-um, yes, that's us. Sorry." "Ah, yeah. Beech-um? Okay."
- Sean Stewart, Mockingbird
2. "Love is not the dying moan of a distant violin .. it's the triumphant twang of a bedspring"
- Quote by S.J. Perelman
4. "And they tramped off to the forests with sturdy youths bearing guitars, twang-twang!"
- Quote by D.H. Lawrence
5. "...these Spaniards are all an odd set; the very word Spaniard has a curious, conspirator, Guy-Fawkish twang to it."
- Quote by Herman Melville
6. "A gunshot rang out, blasting a hole in the door. A crossbow quarrel zinged through the hole and stuck quivering into the opposite wall. Seth heard the rocking horse clattering down the staircase, the twang of bowstrings, and the overlapping beat of several other projectiles thudding against the door. "That was awesome," Seth told Kendra. "You're psychotic," Kendra replied."
- Brandon Mull, Grip of the Shadow Plague
7. "There is an incessant influx of novelty into the world, and yet we tolerate incredible dulness. I need only suggest what kind of sermons are still listened to in the most enlightened countries. There are such words as joy and sorrow, but they are only the burden of a psalm, sung with a nasal twang, while we believe in the ordinary and mean."
- Henry David Thoreau, Walden
8. "The bow is life: the source of all energy. The arrow will leave one day. The target is a long way off. But the bow will stay with you, and you must know how to look after it. It requires periods of inaction - a bow that is always armed and braced loses its strength. Therefore, allow it to rest, to recover its firmness; then, when you draw the bow-string, the bow will be content, with all its strength intact."
- Paulo Coelho, The Way Of The Bow
9. "Words, those precious gems of queer shape and gay colours, sharp angles and soft contours, shades of meaning laid one over the other down history, so that for those far back one must delve among the lost and lovely litter that strews the centuries. They arrange themselves in the most elegant odd patterns; the sound the strangest sweet euphonious notes; they flute and sing and taber, and disappear, like apparitions, with a curious perfume and a most melodious twang."
- Rose Macaulay, Personal Pleasures
10. "While the Saint, when it was necessary to play the part, could assume an aspect of proud or unprincipled poverty that would evoke a responsive twang from any normal heartstring, his usual appearance, fortunately or unfortunately, suggested a person who was so far on the other side of having been born with a silver spoon in his mouth that he must have been seriously shocked when he first learned that gold spoons were not standard issue."
- Leslie Charteris, Trust the Saint