Quotes About Communication

I ripped the page from my 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.

Fish are divided from us by surfaces and silence.

I invented a book that listed every word in every language. It wouldn't be a very useful book, but you could hold it and know that everything you could possibly say was in your hands.

What's it about? she asked. It's about love. She laughed. They're all about love.

I said, not knowing what the next words out of my mouth would be, but wanting them to be mine, wanting, more than I'd ever wanted anything, to express the center of me to and be understood.

The more you love someone, he came to think, the harder it is to tell them.

I said, I want to tell you something She said, you can tell me tomorrow. I had never told her how much I loved her. She was my sister. We slept in the same bed. There was never a right time to say it. It was always unnecessary

They lay in silence, thinking their own thoughts, each trying to know the other's. They were becoming strangers on top of each other.

The Gypsy girl carved love letters into trees, filling the forest with notes for him.

Sitting with her now, rehearsing the horrible conversation, Jacob wondered if maybe, all those years, he had misunderstood the spaces surrounding Julia: her quiet, her steps back. Maybe they weren't buffers of defense, but of the most extreme humility, the purest generosity. What if she wasn't withdrawing, but beckoning? Or both at the same time? Withdrawing and beckoning? And more to the point: making a world for their children, even for Jacob.

Mr. Black started singing a song in some weird language, which I guess was Philippinish.

Sometimes my hand starts to burn and I am convinced we are writing the same word at the same moment.

I was not going to dance at our wedding and you were not going to speak.

Alex?" I told him yes. "You're my translator, right?" I asked him to be slow, because I could not understand him. In truth I was manufacturing a brick wall of shits.

how can you say I love you to someone you love?

Yet we wanted human feeling, gestures free from suspicion, some sympathetic if stammering articulation, half syllables of mystification, a temporary eternal.

Usamos una serie de teatrales señas con las manos para comunicar lo que un simple susurro habría hecho con la misma eficacia. Pero hemos hecho voto de silencio: ni una palabra hasta que estemos a salvo, de camino a casa.

I don't speak," he wrote, "I'm sorry.

it broke my heart into more pieces than my heart was made of, why can't people say what they mean at the time?

What's weird, I said, is that I've never seen you cry. He said, I cry all the time.

I don't speak, I wrote. I'm sorry. She looked at the piece of paper, then at me, then back at the piece of paper, she covered her eyes with her hands and cried, tears seeped between her fingers and collected in the little webs, 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,[...]

E asa de greu sa te exprimi. - Eu inteleg. - Eu vreau sa ma exprim. - La fel si eu. - Imi caut vocea. - E in gura ta.

But it's actually pretty easy to say horrible things: retard, cunt, whatever. In a way, it's even easier because we know exactly how bad the words are. There's nothing scary about them. Part of what makes something really hard to say is the not knowing.

In familia mea, tata este campion mondial la inchis discutii.