The actual tip sounds like someone is reading it and it's always worded in the same format.
It was midnight, and he'd just finished reading Jenn's latest report.
She was alone and segregated, partly because she was new, and partly because an Oracle's soul-reading job was brutal enough that most Oracles—including his mother—killed themselves soon after their full powers manifested within them.
Nobody I talked to ever heard of Dawkins, but Mrs. Worthington said she remembers reading about this Rowland guy.
He studied her over the rim of his reading glasses, and his eyes warmed with a smile.
He didn't feel the Dark One in his mind, but he was there, reading his weaknesses.
Carmen sat down beside his bed and pulled out the horse book she had been reading to him.
I am reading a very sad story, called "Little Jakey."
She sat running her finger over the braille manuscript, stopping now and then to refer to the braille notes on which she had indicated her corrections, all the time reading aloud to verify the manuscript.
For a whole evening she will sit at the table writing whatever comes into her busy brain; and I seldom find any difficulty in reading what she has written.
She bends over her book with a look of intense interest, and as the forefinger of her left hand runs along the line, she spells out the words with the other hand; but often her motions are so rapid as to be unintelligible even to those accustomed to reading the swift and varied movements of her fingers.
Sofi's skill relied mostly on reading the future of a specific soul by touching them, and he'd not let her within miles of a vamp since taking over her guardianship.
"Can you imagine Fred not re-reading Twelve Angry Men and trying to memorize the dialog?" he kidded.
You can't go around reading other people's mail!
No, she was reading too much into an innocent good night kiss.
The silver of her eyes flared and swirled as she gazed at him, an indication she was reading either his future or his mind.
She collected what she could find and perched in a chair, reading until sundown, when the hunger pangs hit her again.
Her reading had shed some insight, saying that when an Oracle died, she could be brought back to life by a blood bond.
The Watcher returned his gaze to his phone, reading a text.
"Sofia, Han tells me you've gotten quite good at reading people," he said.
I'm reading their blogs.
"I saw that you shared his history …" She stopped, not sure how comfortable he was with a stranger reading his mind.
"You are recorded," he stated, reading the words.
Frantically, she tried to recall anything anyone might've told her about suppressing information from someone reading her mind.
You've been reading my mind from the beginning, haven't you?
He turned on some music with weak intentions of continuing his sheriff reading but instead just sat there, finishing the last of the merlot.
Claudia introduced the men, reading from printed biographies.
Two were reading different sections of a newspaper while Roger was stirring his coffee and chatting, although no one seemed to be listening.
Dean knew from reading their newspaper comments and hearing of their exploits that age had in no way diminished their faculties.
Cynthia asked, as if reading his mind.
Reading their minds confirmed they were considering the demons' offers.
When Michael Ivanovich returned to the study with the letter, the old prince, with spectacles on and a shade over his eyes, was sitting at his open bureau with screened candles, holding a paper in his outstretched hand, and in a somewhat dramatic attitude was reading his manuscript-- his "Remarks" as he termed it--which was to be transmitted to the Emperor after his death.
Only now in the stillness of the night, reading it by the faint light under the green shade, did he grasp its meaning for a moment.
Alpatych, having sent his family away, was alone at Bald Hills and was sitting indoors reading the Lives of the Saints.
Toward night candles were burning round his coffin, a pall was spread over it, the floor was strewn with sprays of juniper, a printed band was tucked in under his shriveled head, and in a corner of the room sat a chanter reading the psalms.
An ukase, they are reading an ukase!
Reading an ukase! cried voices in the crowd, and the people rushed toward the reader.
The man in the frieze coat was reading the broadsheet of August 31.
At Anna Pavlovna's on the twenty-sixth of August, the very day of the battle of Borodino, there was a soiree, the chief feature of which was to be the reading of a letter from His Lordship the Bishop when sending the Emperor an icon of the Venerable Sergius.
The art of his reading was supposed to lie in rolling out the words, quite independently of their meaning, in a loud and singsong voice alternating between a despairing wail and a tender murmur, so that the wail fell quite at random on one word and the murmur on another.
This reading, as was always the case at Anna Pavlovna's soirees, had a political significance.
Unable to sit still he paced up and down the room holding the letter and reading it.