Quotes About Communication

All lies are just truths served more palatably.

that Victoria's wife has said that she will phone the police if Victoria ever so much as even mentions this topic again.

And yet, as it turns out, nothing is harder than loving human beings. In part, this is because we don't know what we want. Or, on those unlikely occasions when we do know what we want, we often don't know how to put our desire into words. Instead, a lot of the time we act like my old friend Gomer, snarling and slathering at the end of our chains, driven to fury not only by our imprisonment but also by the presence of others who appear to us to be undeservedly walking free.

Is it? I thought. Is it really better if I talk about it? Isn't keeping this hidden the only way I can protect you, can protect this family? Isn't that my job, taking care of us? Sometimes you can do that better with silence than with words.

The more we feel compelled to keep explaining ourselves, the less like others we become.

The rule with marriage is the less you talk about it the better, as far as I can tell.

Before I'd even said hello, Connor was telling me good-bye.

He talks the way sprinters run and dancers dance, an elite athlete. He talks as though he was born to talk. At

Was this a statement or a question? With teenage girls, it was hard to know. They seemed at every juncture to be looking for agreement, consensus, affirmation. To be reassured that they weren't wrong.

are unsightly but eloquent, a timid girl's

I have great respect for writers who are humble, whose language allows the reader to see the story but doesn't get in the way. Language is a window, and if the window is clean, you shouldn't be aware you're looking through glass.

I open my heart to her and lay it on the table.

My voice falls into Southern drawl when I am tired, drunk, or in trouble. Too often, my accent is attacked by all three of these realities.

People in America are not ignorant of Christianity. They've heard the message, seen our churches on every corner, they flick by our Christian TV shows, they see our fish symbols on the backs of our cars. They've seen so much of pop Christian culture that they have a programmed response to us: Ignore, ignore, ignore. What's needed is a change of parameters—something that will alter their emotional response.

It can be a site of reverie or rebellion; a form of propaganda or an idiosyncratic way of responding to the world: its openness to what it can be is one of its – if not its greatest – sources of power. It can be a response to anything and made anywhere by anyone: it can give permission to the silenced to speak or create a lexicon for the illiterate; it can lend the world shape and make it graspable to those who feel that it is out of reach.

As psychoanalysis has made so clear, human beings move through life dictated to by a mess of conscious and unconscious memories, acts and feelings. The language of art is a reflection of this: it's one of slippages, ambiguities and contradictions that are communicated via images, which are, by their very nature, indeterminate.

To express your sense of place in the world is, it would seem, an endless act of translation. A self-portrait is not always a depiction of a body.

Shared information becomes more categorical than it is when originally presented in the individual mind. It occurs because of the greatly reduced channels of information flow between two or more separate minds, compared to the representational capacities of the individual mind, combined with the string pressure to minimize information loss.

Prayer is not overcoming God's reluctance, but laying hold of God's willingness.

for the vernacular which he was adept at converting

What is it with boys and fighting? I am amazed any of them get to be grown-ups the way they're always going at it.

You haven't locked yourself in any rooms or rocked in any corners, right?" I rolled my eyes and began walking again. No Daemon, but thanks for making sure I'm mentally sound and all.

I didn't want to spoil the mood. This was probably the longest Daemon and I had ever spoken without some statement earning him the finger.

The day my internet was hooked up was better than having a hot guy check out my butt and ask for my phone number.