Quotes About Communication

In the past seven years of love-making he had heard the words I love you so many times: from the mouths of widows and children, from prostitutes, family friends, travelers, and adulterous wives. Women said I love you without his ever speaking. The more you love someone, he came to think, the harder it is to tell them. It surprised him that strangers didn't stop each other on the street to say I love you.

I said I kicked a French chicken in the stomach once. Huh? It said, 'Oeuf.' What is that? It's a joke. Do you want to hear another, or have you already had un oeuf?

Let's go to bed. Those four words differentiate a marriage from every other kind of relationship. We aren't going to find a way to agree, but let's go to bed. Not because we want to, but because we have to. We hate each other right now, but let's go to bed. It's the only one we have. Let's go to our sides, but the sides of the same bed. Let's retreat into ourselves, but together. How many conversations had ended with those four words? How many fights?

Maybe I'll try to be more patient with morons.

It hurts me when you do not want to hurt me.

Someone needed to invent a way to be close to people without having to see them, or talk to them on the phone, or write (or read) letters, or e-mails, or texts.

We just stood there, facing each other, but nine floors apart.

Our unspoken agreements led to disagreements, to suffering.

Fuck You!' [Oskar said] 'Exuse me!' [His mom said] 'Sorry. I mean, screw you.' 'You need a time-out!' 'I need a mausoleum!

she cried and cried and cried, there weren't any napkins nearby so I ripped the page from the book - I don't speak. I'm sorry. - and used it to dry her cheeks, my explanation and apology ran down her face like mascara (..)

I decided then and there never to become someone who told jokes when explanations were impossible.

creating a trail of things i wasn't able to tell you

Another reason it would be a good invention is that there are so many times when you know you're feeling a lot of something, but you don't know what the something is.

As for the bracelet Mom wore to the funeral, what I did was I converted Dad's last voice message into Morse code, and I used sky-blue beads for silence, maroon beads for breaks between letters, violet beads for breaks between words, and long and short pieces of string between the beads for long and short beeps, which are actually called blips, I think, or something. Dad would have known.

Everyone has a pipeline through which he pushes what he is willing and able to share of himself out into the world, and through which he takes in all of the world that he is willing and able to bear. Max's conduit wasn't bigger than anyone else's, it was simply unclogged. What

It's not that I want people to think I am smart, or even that I am a good writer. I write because I want to end my loneliness.

It's just that sometimes we make things up just to talk

I can't even say 'hair pie,'' I told him, 'unless I'm talking about an actual pie made out of rabbits....

I knew that we were sharing something with our eyes, but I didn't know what, and I didn't know if it mattered.

I wanted to shout myself into his ear.

I couldn't tell what he was feeling, because I couldn't speak the language of his feelings.

He talked and talked, his words fell through him, trying to find the floor of his sadness.

I went to my grandmother... and asked her to write a letter. I hardly knew her. I didn't have any interest in knowing her. I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me. What kind of letter? my grandmother asked. I told her to write whatever she wanted to write. You want a letter from me? she asked. I told her yes. Oh, God bless you, she said.

I'm not mad at you, she said. Not even a little? No. Do you still love me? It didn't seem like the perfect time to mention that I had already made copies of the key for the deliverer from Pizza Hut, and the UPS person, and, also the nice guys from Greenpeace, so they could leave me articles on manatees and other animals that are going extinct when Stan is getting coffee. I've never loved you more.