Quotes About Communication

There is joint action, but no joint thinking. There is only tradition which preserves thoughts and communicates them to others as a stimulus to their thinking.

Philosophy, as we use the word, is a fight against the fascination which forms of expression exert on us.

A new word is like a fresh seed sewn on the ground of the discussion.

There are remarks that sow and remarks that reap.

A serious and good philosophical work could be written consisting entirely of jokes.

The limits of my language means the limits of my world.

Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.

Only describe, don't explain.

Don't for heaven's sake , be afraid of talking nonsense! But you must pay attention to your nonsense.

I am sitting with a philosopher in the garden; he says again and again 'I know that that's a tree', pointing to a tree that is near us. Someone else arrives and hears this, and I tell him: 'This fellow isn't insane. We are only doing philosophy.

Philosophy is a battle against the bewitchment of our intelligence by means of language.

My father looked right at me, but he didn't answer. And his eyes were dazed and staring through me, like I was made out of smoke. That was the first time I thought that maybe I was.

Can't you hear it? you said. When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it's safe inside your mouth.

I love you...But I made you cry.

I knew that sometimes when people spoke, it wasn't because they had something important to say. It was because they had a powerful need for someone to listen.

When you do not understand the language being spoken, you have two options. You can struggle against the isolation, or you can give yourself up to it.

We sit for a few more moments, although there's really nothing left to say. This is new to me, too, an entire conversation that takes place in silence, because the heart has its own language. I will remember what Eric says even though he doesn't say a word. I will tell it to her.

God, don't they teach you how to spell these days? No, I answer. They teach us to use spell-check.

For the narrative to exist, so that it could be read and reread even if I was taken away. Stories outlive their writers all the time. We know plenty about Goethe and Charles Dickens from what they chose to tell, even though they have been dead for years.

I asked her sister for a cell number, at least, but something tells me that 401-GO2-HELL is out of service.

So much of marriage was implicit and nonverbal. Had I gotten so complacent I'd forgotten to communicate?

It feels like we are sitting on the tight bench of a bus with a stranger between us, one that neither of us is willing to admit or mention, and so we find ourselves talking around him and through him and sneaking glances when the other one isn't looking.

I realize that I quite like this girl. It's not just that she's so pretty the words fly out of my mind before they can leave my mouth—it's that when we're chatting, I feel like I've known her all my life.

I sigh. "But if you'd talked to Jules—if she could hear you . . ." My voice trails off. "Then you wouldn't feel quite so crazy?" Oliver asks gently. "Can't you believe in me, if I believe in you?