He saw her a couple of times a year, but she and his father never spoke.

I thought of all those eyes, while my father spoke.

Now our father sat by the window and never spoke of the future.

But then, there is much about which my father never spoke to me.

Yet because of a late flight home, father and son didn't speak until the morning after.

I did not like hearing my father speak this way.

Words his father had once spoken came back to him.

For the first time, brother, my father spoke to me with respect!

She didn't ask what he and his father had spoken about.

Why did Father speak to her of an ancient god?