Quotes About Communication

I feared Sarah was one of those women who instead of laughing said, That's funny, or instead of smiling said, That's interesting, or instead of saying, You are a stupid blithering idiot, said, Well I think it's a little more complicated than that.

Nothing's a joke with me. It just all comes out like one.

Personally I've never put much store by honesty- I mean how can you trust a word whose first letter you don't even pronounce

Love is the answer, said the songs, and that's OK. It was OK, I supposed, as an answer. But no more than that. It was not a solution; it wasn't really even an answer, just a reply.

We were in dialogue that was about something other than what we were saying.

Nothing is a joke with me. It just all comes out like one.

This is what happened in love. One of you cried a lot and then both of you grow sarcastic.

He calls you occasionally at the office to ask how you are. You doodle numbers and curlicues on the corners of Rolodex cards. Fiddle with your Phi Beta Kappa key. Stare out the window. You always, always, say: Fine.

If God Speaks Through Burning Bushes, Let's Burn Bush and Listen to What God Says.

They were in performance. They were performing their marriage at me.

I wished for eternal and intriguing muteness. I would be the Mysterious Dumb Girl, the Enigmatic Elf. The human voice no longer interested me.

When affection fell on its ass, politeness could step up.

A lie to the faithless is merely a conversation in their language.

Back at home, days later, feel cranky and tired. Sit on the couch and tell him he's stupid. That you bet he doesn't know who Coriolanus is. That since you moved in you've noticed he rarely reads. He will give you a hurt, hungry-to-learn look, with his James Cagney eyes. He will try to kiss you. Turn your head. Feel suffocated. (from How)

The key to marriage, she concluded, was just not to take the thing too personally.

While my scarcely controlled rage flew from my mouth in sentences I hoped would be, perhaps not then but perhaps later, like knives to her brain.

Which is it, she asked. Is it CLIToris or clotORis? I didn't know. Why didn't I know? It may depend on which you have, I said.

Sarah'n?n gülmek yerine, Komik, ya da gülümsemek yerine, Ä°lginç, ya da Aptal z?rva geri zekâl?n?n tekisin, demek yerine, Åžey, san?r?m bu ondan biraz daha karma??k, diyen kad?nlardan olmas?ndan korktum. Öyle insanlar?n yan?nda ne yapaca??m? hiç bilemezdim, özellikle de siz konuÅŸtuktan sonra gizemli bir ÅŸekilde Anl?yorum, diyenlerin. Genellikle sadece susard?m.

That's not the one you were thinking of? No. There was accusation in her voice. Mine was different

He was thinking, but she could tell he wasn't good at it....'Where do you live,' she asked, 'and how do I get there?

I loved to say quasi. I was saying it now a lot, instead of sort of, or kind of, and it had become a tic. I am quasi ready to go, I would announce. Or, I'm feeling a bit quasi today. Murph called me Quasimodo. Or Kami-quasi. Or wild and quasi girl.

If one publishes, then one is creating a public record of Learning to Write.

He began to prefer talking on the phone to actually getting together with someone, preferred the bodilessness of it, and started to turn down social engagements. He didn't want to actually sit across from someone in a restaurant, look at their face, and eat food. He wanted to turn away, not deal with the face, have the waitress bring them two tin cans and some string so they could just converse, in a faceless dialogue.

If dolphins tasted good," he said, "we wouldn't even know about their language.