Quotes About Communication

If you are speaking and the person you are having a conversation with has not said something within the past sixty seconds, there is a good chance you have lost her and it's time to stop talking so much.

Every person you meet knows at least one thing you don't; don't let them leave without learning it.)

Words affect the mind in a pronounced way. Whether they are spoken or written, they are powerful influences. While what you say to others is important, even more important is what you say to yourself.

The S in SPARK stands for Speak with Candor.

Saying things we don't really mean becomes a habit when we practice it long enough. The real problem is that when you don't keep your word, you lose credibility. When you lose credibility, you break the bonds of trust. And breaking the bonds of trust ultimately leads to a string of broken relationships. To

Paso días y días en reuniones estériles con personas que solo desean escuchar el sonido de su propia voz.

like most human beings, I do business with people who treat me well.

Las palabras tienen el poder de crear

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the world all day long chatting endlessly on your phone about one thousand senseless things or

La vida es demasiado valiosa como para malgastarla con gente que no te entiende. Con gente que no está en la misma onda. Con gente que tiene unos valores distintos y un listón más bajo que el tuyo. Y con una disposición mental, emocional, física y espiritual distinta.

Personal relationships start unraveling, business partnerships begin to fall apart and your credibility decreases as you become known as "a loose cannon." Effective

The conversations you are most resisting are the conversations you most need to be having.

Words can inspire and words can destroy. Choose your words well.

The second exercise is a favorite of Yogi Raman's. He used to go an entire day without speaking, except in response to a direct question." "Kind of like a vow of silence?" "Actually that's exactly what it was, John. The Tibetan monks who popularized this practice believed that to hold one's tongue for an extended period of time would have the effect of enhancing one's discipline.

To be native to a place we must learn to speak its language.

We Americans are reluctant to learn a foreign language of our own species, let alone another species. But imagine the possibilities. Imagine the access we would have to different perspectives, the things we might see through other eyes, the wisdom that surrounds us. We don't have to figure out everything by ourselves: there are intelligences other than our own, teachers all around us. Imagine how much less lonely the world would be.

That was the strange thing about translation, speaking someone else's words in a voice that somehow was and wasn't your own. You could fool yourself into believing you understood the meaning behind the words, but-as my father had explained long before I was old enough to get it-words and meaning were inseparable. Language shapes thought; I speak, therefore I think, therefor I am.

According to Lacey I had the lyrics all wrong. I sang like it sounded to me, because those words sounded right: I loved you I'm not going back I killed you I'm not going back.

The way I figured it, keeping quiet was safe. Words could betray you if you choose the wrong ones, or mean less if you used too many.

They'd had a fight again. – You'll have your work cut out for you, I said. One of their quiet ones. She laughed. Where they whispered their screams and roaring. She laughed at me. And she was always the first one to cry and he kept stabbing at her with his face and his words.

I'd made a girl laugh and touch my arm when I'd told her that I was thinking of rewriting it as a musical after the finals. But I couldn't look at her while I spoke. I could look at her, briefly, and say nothing. Or I could make her laugh while I looked over her shoulder or at a wall. I couldn't do both. But I could write.

Gloria screamed, but nothing came out. She could feel the scream in her throat, but it was clinging there, too scared to climb out of her mouth. Raymond might have screamed, too--he wasn't sure. His face was an exploding red ball--that was what it felt like. His heart was in the middle of his head. He couldn't see a thing.

He's a feral child. No mother, no father, no one to care for him or raise him or teach him how to be human. So he's existed much like an animal, without language. He thinks in images, not word. How strange, Lanaya, sounding amazed. Ryter shakes his head sadly. Not strange, I'm afaraid. His condition is all too common in the latches. And becoming more common every day.