Quotes About Communication

He should laugh, tease, treat her lightly, keep her guessing. But instead his words rang with unstrategic truth. "I remember everything you've ever said to me.

He didn't wait for her to finish. He never did. A habit unacceptable in a husband.

I don't know how to please you," she whispered. For the first time since he'd burst into her room, tenderness softened his smile. Her blood melted to syrup as those strong hands rose to cradle her head. "You don't have to do anything, mo chridhe. Your mere presence pleases me more than I can say." He paused, then spoke with more emphasis, in case she misunderstood. "You please me." The

Do not save your loving speeches for your friends till they are dead; Do not write them on their tombstones; speak them rather now instead.

We spend so much time bantering about the words when the real open conversations might very well be our actions. I worry about our rhetoric.

I think we can learn a lot about a person in the very moment that language fails them. In the very moment they they have to be more creative than they would have imagined in order to communicate. It's the very moment that they have to dig deeper than the surface to find words, and at the same time, it's a moment when they want to communicate very badly. They're digging deep and projecting out at the same time.

We who are in the arts are at the risk of being in a popularity contest rather than a profession. If that fact causes you despair . . . pick another profession. Your desire to communicate must be bigger than your relationship with the chaotic and unfair realities . . . We have to create our own standards of discipline.

Rhetoric is what shapes history, if not truth.

Art requires that you make something else exist that is a representation of what your feeling is, or your idea.

We can learn a lot about a person in the very moment that language fails them.

When we read with a child, we are doing so much more than teaching him to read or instilling in her a love of language. We are doing something that I believe is just as powerful, and it is something that we are losing as a culture: by reading with a child, we are teaching that child to be human. When we open a book, and share our voice and imagination with a child, that child learns to see the world through someone else's eyes.

Papa always makes it clear that he would like to know me as much more rational and lucid than the girls and women he gets to know during his analytic hours.

Die menschliche Stimme ist das schönste Instrument überhaupt, das ergreifendste. Selbst der größte Virtuose der Welt würde niemals auch nur ein Viertel der Hälfte an Emotionen auslösen wie eine schöne Stimme.

Emoticône. Le nom est aussi vulgaire que la chose.Je hais ces trucs de feignants. Au lieu d'exprimer un sentiment, on l'expédie. On appuie sur une touche et tous les sourires du monde sont pareils. Les joies, les doutes, le chagrin, la colère, tout a la même gueule. Tous les élans du coeur se retrouvent réduits à cinq ronds hideux.

The human voice is the most beautiful instrument of all, the most moving... And even the greatest virtuoso in the world will never be able to give you even a fraction of the emotion that a beautiful voice can give you. That is our share of the divine.

Is your name really Romeo?" "No." "Oh." "It's Jean-Baptiste." "Oh." "Are you disappointed?" "No." Talk about snappy dialogue.

La main, c'est bien. Ça n'engage pas trop celui qui la donne et ça apaise beaucoup celui qui la reçoit...

J?s man kr?tat uz nerviem. J?s run?jat mu???bas. J?s dom?jat tikai par sevi. J?s k??stat apnic?gs, galu gal?. ''Es negribu, lai tu aizej.'' Bet k?d?? j?s man sak?t kaut ko tik nej?dz?gu? Atg?dinu jums, ka t? neesmu es, kura aiziet… Jums ir d?ls, vai atceraties? Liels z?ns. Un aizg?jis ir vi?š. Vi?š!

Il ne lui répondit qu'une seule fois: 01:16 silence Voulait-il dire: fin du service, paix, calme, ou voulait-il dire: boucle-la?

K?pÄ"c es esmu vecs mu??is? · T?pÄ"c, ka jÅ«s nevienu nemÄ«lat. JÅ«s nekad ne?aujaties plÅ«dumam. JÅ«su nekad nav Å¡eit. Nekad mÅ«su vidÅ«. Nekad mÅ«su sarun?s un mÅ«su mu???b?s, nekad mÅ«su dzÄ«ru viduvÄ"jÄ«b?. T?pÄ"c ka jÅ«s neesat maigs, t?pÄ"c ka jÅ«s vienmÄ"r klusÄ"jat, un jÅ«su klusÄ"Å¡ana lÄ«dzin?s nicin?jumam…

Es nekad neteicu vi?am, ka vi?š ir lab?kais. Es tikai m?l?ju vi?u. M?-l?-ju.

Kaut kur uz š?s plan?tas bija sieviete, varb?t divu so?u att?lum?, varb?t desmitt?kstoš kilometru t?lu, un vien?gais, kam bija k?da noz?me, - lai vi?a var man piezvan?t. Es biju pa??v?gs. Ener?ijas pilns. Man lieks, ka biju diezgan laim?gs šaj? dz?ves posm?, jo ar? tad, ja nebiju kop? ar vi?u, es zin?ju, ka vi?a ir. Tas vien bija necer?ti.

Où s'arrêtait la sincérité et où commençait le jeu avec lui?

Phones, text messages, screens, chats, and e-mails... I didn't want these imaginary borders on my map of Tendre anymore. I'd given; I'd suffered; I'd paid for my share of all these half-assed, absurd, naive plans imposed on us by love in the digital age.