Quotes About Communication

I beg women to wait. Wait on God. Keep your mouth shut. Don't expect anything until the declaration is clear and forthright. And to the men I say be careful with us, please. Be circumspect.

Cold prayers, like cold suitors, are seldom effective in their aims.

A woman ought to be honest with a man who shows interest in her.

Together we began having meetings for the Indians, telling them in their own language the most wonderful story in the world, that of the Son of God who had come to earth and paid the price of man's sin with his own blood. The recognition of God's great love dawned slowly in the Indian mind. But one day we rejoiced as Atanasio said to Jim, "I am very old. Perhaps too old to understand well. But it seems to me your words are true. I will die in your words.

But finally we were sure the line was free . . . and there was our messenger of good will, love, and faith, 2,000 feet below on the sandbar. In a sense we had delivered the first Gospel-message-by-sign-language to a people who were a quarter of a mile away vertically, fifty miles horizontally, and continents and wide seas away psychologically.

I wonder if she allowed the man to see her eagerness and scared him? Possibly her failure to wait quietly caused him to curtail the friendship.

Men like mystery. They don't want to be told everything woman are thinking.

Lord, deliver me from the urge to open my mouth when I should shut it. Give me the wisdom to keep silent where silence is wise. Remind me that not everything needs to be said, and that there are very few things that need to be said by me.

You speak Quichua better than we do," said Wakcha, a proud young Indian who always wore a pith helmet, a sign of great prestige among his people. "You hear us too well. We are talking away, saying to ourselves, 'They do not hear,' and then you answer us!

A missionary plods through the first year or two, thinking that things will be different when he speaks the language. He is baffled to find, frequently, that they are not.

We usually know more about suppressing anger than feeling it. Tell a counselor how angry you are. Share it with friends and family. Scream into a pillow. Find ways to get it out without hurting yourself or someone else. Try walking, swimming, gardening—any type of exercise helps you externalize your anger. Do not bottle up anger inside. Instead, explore it. The anger is just another indication of the intensity of your love.

Pasados unos meses observé que muchos médicos evitaban rutinariamente referirse a cualquier cosa que tuviera que ver con la muerte. A los enfermos moribundos se los trataba tan mal como a mis pacientes psiquiátricos del hospital estatal. Se los rechazaba y maltrataba. Nadie era sincero con ellos. Si un enfermo de cáncer preguntaba ¿Me voy a morir?, el médico le contestaba ¡Oh, no! no diga tonterías.

I call it sniffing someone out. If they smell real, I give them a signal to come close.

Tony's wife, Carol, would always get mad at

Bob comes into the office with a smear of grease on his white shirt over the bulge of his beer gut, and he's talking nonstop about what's going on with the breakdown of the automatic testing machines. "Bob," I tell him, "forget about that for now.

Say It Before It's Too Late

With stammering lips and insufficient sound I strive and struggle to deliver right the music of my nature.

I turned on my e-mail

I think, actually, that none of us understands anyone else very well, because we're all too shy to show what matters the most. If you ask me, it's a major design flaw. We ought to be able to say, Here, look what I am. I think it would be quite a relief.

A family is no place for privacy!

The one to tell. The one to be told by. For him, that was marriage.

You know, sometimes marriage is iron. Sometimes it's tissue paper. And I think the times it's tissue paper are when you need to keep things to yourself. Or you can end up making a mistake that you'll regret forever.

If you see a sunset and try to describe it to someone in normal words, all you can say is, 'Boy, I saw a great sunset last night.' But if you are a poet, you give it to someone to feel for themselves. Like you make a little seed of what you saw, they swallow it, and it blooms again inside their own hearts.

For what reason would I lie to one I so love?