Quotes About Communication

I've been hit on plenty of times, mostly by men with little finesse who thought what was between their legs made up for what they lacked between their ears.

Sex makes bumble-tongued fools even out of the most eloquent, but the beauty of it is that it also tunes our ears to hear the meaning of words that, spoken under other circumstances, would make us laugh or cry or frown.

Te he visto una vez al mes durante dos años, y no era el único que contaba historias; lo único que pasa es que era el que usaba más palabras

You've got the sexiest voice. You make everything you say sound like it tastes good coming out of your mouth.

Naveen: Oh, come on. Throw a guy a bone. Elisabeth: Are you a dog? Naveen: Are you a bitch? That was how we became friends.

We can't stop staring at each other. Saying nothing, nothing to say. I trace the curve of his jaw and throat, the sweet spot below his ear, with only my eyes, because he's too faraway to touch. We stare and we stare and I can't stop myself from smiling, because he's smiling, too. We don't have to speak to have this conversation; in fact, the only way to have it is by not using words.

Will cries out, low, a murmur of blue and green and gold. The syllables of my name float between us. I've never seen my name that way, in those colors, not from any other voice.

What are you wearing?" I looked down at my soft flannel pajamas. I'd washed them so many times the plaid pattern had faded mostly to grays and whites. "What do you want me to be wearing?" Dan's voice shifted a little. I imagined a smile. "Nothing." Such a small thing, that little bit of flirting, but all at once I felt as if air had rushed into my lungs, and I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath. "Nothing but a smile.

If it's true, does it have to be nice? If you have something true to say, but you don't say it because you just want to be nice, isn't that sort of like a lie?

I love you," she said, a little louder. A little stronger. She waited another handful of seconds before saying, "Now would be the time for you to say something, Elliott." "I don't want to see you again." Simone drew in a long, sobbing breath that hurt her in every single inch, but managed to find the voice to answer him. "That's not what I was hoping to hear.

So many of the blemished didn't know what to do with silence. Sunny'd learned that well enough at the coffee shop, where people insisted on talking, talking. To be "social," they said, but she thought it was because they didn't really know what to do with themselves if they had to listen to what was in their heads instead of what came out from their mouths.

care desperately in a perversely curious-about-your-sex-life way," Merrick said. "You never tell me anything about your personal life. You don't hit on me. You ignore me when I hit on you. You keep our work relationship professional no matter how hard I try to make it unprofessional. It's like you have integrity or something, and quite frankly, I'm sick of it.

She talked, he nodded. She was satisfied. He was oblivious.

Elliott took a long, deep breath. "Look. We seem to have had a misunderstanding.…" "Really?" Eyes snapping fire, Simone faced him. "Really. A misunderstanding. What part of 'I don't want to see you again, and I don't want you to come to my office' did I misunderstand? Because it seemed pretty fucking crystal to me." He winced. "No. That part was right.

I'm not sure a man can ever understand the complicated matter of feminine relationships.

And still, we said nothing, like we'd all been trained so well to do.

The circular conversation wasn't new. Instead of feeling annoyed, I felt only sad. This man, for better or worse, was my father.

Decirle a la gente lo que quiere oír solo para que se sientan mejor no es mejor que mentir

Fuuuuuuuuck youuuuuuu," Keisha said.

Try not to kill me with your love, try not to break a glass wall seeing everything, but going unheard, the words feel unspoken. Crystals gleaming at our feet, innocently joined by red fists and a kiss.

Silence is the cruelest means of rejection, even if it only masks confusion or regret. The

the importance of words as "the signs of our thoughts and feelings in all their minutest shades and variations.

The minute our correspondence becomes obligatory, there's no point in keeping touch at all.

She mailed me a Merry Christmas-I'm-Breaking-Up-with-You card. I'll read it to you," he said. He cleared his throat. "Dear Marcus. Merry Christmas. I'm breaking up with you. Mia.