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Quotes About Silence

Trounce. Come, silence your drum — there is no valour stirring to-day. I thought St. Patrick would have given us a recruit or two to- day. Sol. Mark, serjeant! Enter two COUNTRYMEN. Trounce. Oh! these are the lads I was looking for; they have the look of gentlemen. — An't you single, my lads? 1 Coun. Yes, an please you, I be quite single: my relations be all dead, thank heavens, more or less. I have but one poor mother left in the world, and she's an helpless woman.
~ Richard Brinsley Sheridan
So, too, I and countless others have chosen to give God a fair hearing—if only he would speak. I would listen to him even now, at this very moment. Yet he remains silent.
~ Richard Carrier
If there is any person to whom you feel a dislike, that is the person of whom you ought never to speak.
~ Richard Cecil
Whatever the culture, there's a tongue in our head. Some use it, some hold it, some bite it. For the French it is a rapier, thrusting in attack; the English, using it defensively, mumble a vague, confusing reply; for Italians and Spaniards it is an instrument of eloquence; Finns and East Asians throw you with constructive silence. Silence is a form of speech, so don't interrupt it!
~ Richard D. Lewis
the Japanese observe and quietly learn from both.
~ Richard D. Lewis
Is it easier for a man to live his life again as a fish, than to accept the wonder of being human? So alone, so frightened, so wanting for what we are afraid to give tongue to.
~ Richard Flanagan
Ghosts, like ladies, never speak till spoke to.
~ Richard Harris Barham
Let me silent be, For silence is the speech of love, The music of the spheres above.
~ Richard Henry Stoddard
And under my breath I was telling it to hisht and for shame, and if I had known any swearing I would have had that in, too.
~ Richard Llewellyn
The man who goes to the top is the man who has something to say and says it when circumstances warrant. Men who keep silent underdressed are moral cowards.
~ Richard Llewellyn
The kitchen went so quiet that I could hear the grease dropping from the chickens on the spit. Not a sound else was to be heard except the littler sounds of the new paint finding homes in the cracks, and the table getting comfortable on the new tiles, and the chair resting itself, and my breath coming slow and steady and making
~ Richard Llewellyn
Quiet is here and all in me. (Dress of White Silk)
~ Richard Matheson
He stood there for a moment looking around the silent room, shaking his head slowly. All these books, he thought, the residue of a planet's intellect, the scrapings of futile minds, the leftovers, the potpourri of artifacts that had no power to save men from perishing.
~ Richard Matheson
I don the robe of hermit without a cry.
~ Richard Matheson
It was a high ceilinged room with tall, large-panes windows. Apart from the doorway was the desk where book had been checked out in days when books were still being checked out. He stood there for a moment looking around the silent room, shaking his head slowly. All these books, he thought, the residue of a planet's intellect, the scrapings of futile minds, the leftovers, the potpourri of artifacts that had no power to save men from perishing.
~ Richard Matheson
The silence of the library was complete save for the thudding of his shoes as he walked along the second-floor hallway. Outside, there were birds sometimes and, even lacking that, there seemed to be a sort of sound outside. Inexplicable, perhaps, but it never seemed deathly still in the open as it did inside a building. Especially here in this giant, gray-stoned building that housed the literature of a world's dead.
~ Richard Matheson
With words I have knit my shroud and will bury myself therein
~ Richard Matheson
Then he sat down beside the casket and rested his forehead against its cold metal side. Silence held him in its cold and gentle hands.
~ Richard Matheson
Silence held him in its cold and gentle hands.
~ Richard Matheson
If it had been me, I would have done the same thing, remained silent, then died.
~ Richard Matheson
Trees fall with spectacular crashes. Planting is silent and growth invisible.
~ Richard Powers
Silence: the motor drive of nothingness underneath all rhythm - threatened to last forever, a spell of sleep cast over the entire kingdom of listeners.
~ Richard Powers
He stayed inside his perfect silence, hung on the stopped, forward edge of nowhere
~ Richard Powers
Trees fall with spectacular crashes. But planting is silent and growth is invisible.
~ Richard Powers