Quotes About Silence

Silence! said the ruffian. To the devil with your clamour!

Next morning—bright and cheerful out of doors—stole softened in through the blinds of the silent room, and suffused the couch and its occupant with a mellow, tender glow. Edgar Linton had his head laid on the pillow, and his eyes shut. His young and fair features were almost as deathlike as those of the form beside him, and almost as fixed: but his was the hush of exhausted anguish, and hers of perfect peace.

Non rivelai mai il mio amore verbalmente; però se gli sguardi hanno un linguaggio, anche il più perfetto idiota avrebbe potuto indovinare che io ne ero perdutamente innamorato.

The human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed; The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, Whose charms were broken if revealed.

Non rivelai mai il mio amore verbalmente; però se gli sguardi hanno un linguaggio, anche il più perfetto idiota avrebbe potuto indovinare che ne ero perdutamente innamorato.

I think that one's art is a growth inside one. I do not think one can explain growth. It is silent and subtle. One does not keep digging up a plant to see how it grows.

I must go in. The fog is rising.

A great hope fell You heard no noise The ruin was within.

My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word

I fear a Man of frugal speech - I fear a Silent Man - Haranguer - I can overtake - Or Babbler - entertain - But He who weigheth - While the Rest - Expend their furthest pound - Of this Man - I am wary - I fear that He is Grand -

The only secret people keep is immortality.

AMPLE make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight, Be its pillow round; Let no sunrise' yellow noise Interrupt this ground.

I never spoke — unless addressed — And then, 'twas brief and low — I could not bear to live — aloud — The Racket shamed me so — And if it had not been so far — And any one I knew Were going — I had often thought How noteless — I could die —

Whose fingers string the stalactite- Who counts the Wampum of the night

The career of flowers differs from ours only in inaudibleness. I feel more reverence as I grow for these mute creatures whose suspense or transport may surpass my own.

And so, as kinsmen met a-night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names.

I know that He exists. Somewhere – in silence – He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes.

To attempt to speak of what has been, would be impossible. Abyss has no Biographer -

Solamente el silencio nos da miedo. En la voz siempre hay algo que nos salva. Sin embargo, el silencio es lo infinito. No se le ve la cara.

Shadows hold their breath;

Saying nothing sometimes says the most.

Like Brooms of Steel Like Brooms of Steel The Snow and Wind Had swept the Winter Street - The House was hooked The Sun sent out Faint Deputies of Heat - Where rode the Bird The Silence tied His ample - plodding Steed The Apple in the Cellar snug Was all the one that played.

The silence like an ocean rolled, And broke against my ear.

And only the waves reply.