Quotes About Silence

They come from my imagination; for, as you know, truth is silent, and it is imagination only which waxes eloquent. Reality represses the flow of feeling like a rock; imagination cuts out a path for itself.

In the depth of night when no one is awake to arrest me—me, the least of all men—I will silently creep to my mother's arms and fall asleep, and may I never wake again!

They who from birth have had no other speech than the trembling of their lips learn a language of the eyes, endless in expression, deep as the sea, clear as the heavens, wherein play dawn and sunset, light and shadow. The dumb have a lonely grandeur like Nature's own. Wherefore

THE fish in the water is silent, the animal on the earth is noisy, the bird in the air is singing, But Man has in him the silence of the sea, the noise of the earth and the music of the air.

I know not how thou singest, my master! I ever listen in silent amazement. The light of thy music illumines the world. The life breath of thy music runs from sky to sky. The holy stream of thy music breaks through all stony obstacles and rushes on. My heart longs to join in thy song, but vainly struggles for a voice. I would speak, but speech breaks not into song, and I cry out baffled. Ah, thou hast made my heart captive in the endless meshes of thy music, my master!

Outwardly nature is busy and restless, inwardly she is all silence and peace. She has toil on one side and leisure on the other. You see her bondage only when you see her from without, but within her heart is a limitless beauty.

Let thy love play upon my voice and rest on my silence. Let it pass through my heart into all my movements. Let thy love like stars shine in the darkness of my sleep and dawn in my awakening. Let it burn in the flame of my desires And flow in all currents of my own love. Let me carry thy love in my life as a harp does its music, and give it back to thee at last with my life.

The hidden clash of a silent conflict like this is far harder to bear than an open quarrel.

I am like the night to you, little flower. I can only give you peace and a wakeful silence hidden in the dark. When in the morning you open your eyes, I shall leave you to a world a-hum with bees, and songful with birds. My last gift to you will be a tear dropped into the depth of your youth; it will make your smile all the sweeter, and bemist your outlook on the pitiless mirth of day.

In the night the song came to me; but you were not there. It found the words for which I had been seeking all day. Yes, in the stillness a moment after dark they throbbed into music, even as the stars then began to pulse with light; but you were not there. My hope was to sing it to you in the morning; but, try as I might, though the music came, the words hung back, when you were beside me.

La verdad no está de parte de quien grite más

WE, the rustling leaves, have a voice that answers the storms, but who are you so silent?" "I am a mere flower.

O that I were stored with a secret, like unshed rain in summer clouds — a secret, folded up in silence, that I could wander away with. O that I had someone to whisper to, where slow waters lap under trees that doze in the sun. The hush this evening seems to expect a footfall, and you ask me for the cause of my tears. I cannot give a reason why I weep, for that is a secret still withheld from me.

If I now pretend to be orthodox, my faith will certainly be lost, whether the community remains or not. It is out of respect for religion that I have never concealed anything. I let everyone know that I don't follow any restrictions, and suffer everyone's contempt in silence.

La sombra, cubierta por un velo, sigue a la luz en secreta mansedumbre, con pasos silenciosos de amor.

20 Día tras día él llega y se va. Ve y dale esta flor de mi pelo, amigo. Si te pregunta quién se la envía, no se lo digas, te lo ruego, pues si viene, es para volverse a ir. Está sentado bajo un árbol, en el suelo. Prepárale un lecho de pétalos y hojas, amigo. Sus ojos están tristes y su mirada pesa en mi corazón. Nunca dice qué piensa, sólo viene y se va.

The dust of the dead words clings to thee. Wash thy soul with silence.

The world is the ever-changing foam that floats on the surface of a sea of silence.

Let my thoughts come to you, when I am gone, like the afterglow of sunset at the margin of starry silence.

If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience. The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky. Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests, and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.

Over increasingly large areas of the United States, spring now comes unheralded by the return of the birds, and the early mornings are strangely silent where once they were filled with the beauty of bird song.

It is hard to listen while you were talking.

ellipsis, he'd been told, could literally be translated as 'to hide behind silence'. It's fascinating stuff, he said.

He was all for people speaking their minds but it did make him miss the time when what was beneath the surface had been permitted to stay there.