Quotes About Quiet

Leave to your opinions their own quiet undisturbed development, which, like all progress, must come from deep within and cannot be pressed or hurried by anything.

You are not dead yet, it's not too late to open your depths by plunging into them and drink in the life that reveals itself quietly there.

I love the dark hours of my being. My mind deepens into them.

are patient, who are simply there in their vast, quiet tranquillity, as if eternity lay before them. It is a lesson I learn every day amid hardships I am thankful for: patience is all!

depict your sadnesses and desires, passing thoughts and faith in some kind of beauty - depict all this with intense, quiet, humble sincerity and make use of whatever you find about you to express yourself, the images from your dreams and the things in your memory.

How much childhood is in that picture, and how everything is already settled there in the quiet, so indescribably lonely state of being a child, at the time when seated in an armchair one cannot touch the floor and with immense courage just keeps sitting there in that vast space which begins all around one and goes on and on. It is a very sweet and meaningful small picture. Thank you for letting me see it.

I wanted only to advise you to progress quietly and seriously in your evolvement. You could greatly interfere with that process if you look outward and expect to obtain answers from the outside—answers which only your innermost feeling in your quietest hour can perhaps give you.

Ich will wie ein Kind im Krankenzimmer Einsam, mit heimlichem Lächeln, leise, Leise – Tage und Träume bauen.

This alone is needed: solitude, vast inner solitude. To go into yourself and meet no one for hours,—you must be able to achieve this. Be alone, as you were alone as a child, while the adults went about their business, caught up in matters that seemed important and grand because the grown-ups looked so busy and because you comprehended nothing of what they did.

I want everything quiet and simple. For me: walking barefoot, sitting still, reading, listening to stories and now and then telling some myself. Eating fruit, drinking milk, longing to create, but with patience and many insights.

These are the voices which we hear in solitude, but they grow faint and inaudible as we enter into the world.

My religion is a conspiracy My prayer meetings are a conspiracy My lying quiet is a conspiracy My attempt to wake up is a conspiracy My desire to have friends is a conspiracy My ignorance, my backwardness, a conspiracy.

They read the long afternoon through, while the cold November rain fell from the sky upon the quiet house.

It was a quiet morning, the town covered over with darkness and at ease in bed. Summer gathered in the weather, the wind had the proper touch, the breathing of the world was long and warm and slow. You had only to rise, lean from your window, and know that this indeed was the first real time of freedom and living, this was the first morning of summer.

Summer quiet thoughts on summer quiet noons.

Chapter 31 NOTHING MUCH else happened, all the rest of that night.

The library was like a stone quarry where no rain had fallen in ten thousand years. Way off in that direction: silence. Way off in that direction: hush. It was the time between things finished and things begun. Nobody died here. Nobody was born. The library, and all its books, just were. We

They read the long afternoon through, while the cold November rain fell from the sky upon the quiet house. They sat in the hall because the parlor was so empty and gray-looking

Behind him the lights of the lonely little store blinked out and there was only a street light shimmering on the corner, and the whole city seemed to be going to sleep.

If the men were silent it was because there was everything to think about and much to remember.

My heart stopped talking because it didn't want to talk anymore for a while.

The town was so quiet and far off you could hear only the crickets sounding in the spaces beyond the hot indigo trees that hold back the stars.

And this stillness of life did not the least resemble a peace.

The calm was absolute, a dead, flat calm, the stillness of a dead sea and of a dead atmosphere.