Quotes About Unsaid

you soon find out how loud the silence really is. everything unsaid leads eventually to what is said.

The hardest goodbyes are the ones that were never said and never explained, the ones where the story wasn't over.

You knew there were no words for what had to be said.

Conversations consist for the most part of things one does not say.

A novel is not a summary of its plot but a collection of instances, of luminous specific details that take us in the direction of the unsaid and unseen.

Sometimes everything left unsaid, is better to let it remain unsaid.

I think we communicate only too well, in our silence, in what is unsaid, and that what takes place is a continual evasion, desperate rearguard attempts to keep ourselves to ourselves. Communication is too alarming. To enter into someone else's life is too frightening. To disclose to others the poverty within us is too fearsome a possibility.

They walked along in silence, that silence just before parting where everything has been left unsaid and it is too late now to say it. Fern felt as if her stomach was full of words, words burning to be spoken, but her lips refused to unclose and the words remained inside her, seething, like a bad case of indigestion.

The unsaid is a powerful tool. It invites the reader into the narrative, filling in gaps, interpreting silences and half-finished sentences, and seeing the hidden fear in someone's eye.

I like Beryl Bainbridge a great deal, and she is a writer who absolutely demands to be read a second, third, and fourth time. I admire her great courage in leaving so much unsaid and asking the reader to really engage her brain.

Facts tend to take the punch out of a good hate rant and are therefore left best unsaid.

Your experiences are what made you what you are today. So when tragedy happens in people's lives, and things are left unsaid, it can be very unsettling. The lack of closure can linger.

There were plenty of things I was actually glad I had left unsaid. Still, the comment haunted me. It haunts me today. All the things I wish I had said when I had the chance.

We sit in silence, the air between bristling with words unsaid.

EPIGRAPH "There was a very strange connection. One of those odd collisions that happen. We were a little alike; I was an unhealthy child that was kept at home. So there was an unsaid feeling between us that was wonderful, an utter naturalness. We'd sit for hours and not say a word, and then she'd say something, and I'd answer her. A reporter once asked her what we talked about. She said, 'Nothing foolish.'" —Andrew Wyeth

For a writer, what you leave out says as much as those things you include. What lies beyond the margin of the text?

Strange as it might seem, it made Reuben feel closer to his mom, and he was sure she felt the same way, though they'd never discussed it. Talking about it might ruin the effect.

A plan is a thing that goes unsaid, but puts the hope in your voice nonetheless.

I think about how much of a good story seems to happen elsewhere, off the canvas or screen or page, in Europe or a backwater New Brunswick town, in what is left unsaid. A word on the tip of the tongue, ungraspable. The teasing smush of a feather boa over naked breasts in a striptease.

Like life is short," he said. "Like you don't know when it's going to end. Like some things, left unsaid, can't ever be said.

Empty night, Harry. Didn't your little adventure in the lake teach you a damned thing? I scowled some more. Like what? Like life is short, he [Thomas] said. Like you don't know when it's going to end. Like some things, left unsaid, can't ever be said.

The unseen is almost always underlined with the unsaid.

A pity we hadn't had time to say all the things we wanted to each other.

Reading means stripping yourself of every purpose, every foregone conclusion, to be ready to catch a voice that makes itself heard when you least expect it, a voice that comes from an unknown source, from somewhere beyond the book, beyond the author, beyond the conventions of writing: from the unsaid, from what the world has not yet said of itself and does not yet have the words to say