Quotes About Silence

Sleeplessness is a desert without vegetation or inhabitants.

Of silence, I can say only what I heard, that all things are known by that which they make or leave–and so speech isn't itself, but its effect, and silence is the same.

Of silence, I can say only what I have heard, that all things are known by that which they make or leave-and so speech isn't itself, but its effect, and silence is the same.

It is one of the great ironies of our time that those who pass for "black leaders" are so vocal about every perceived racial slight, and yet are not only silent—but even supportive—of the most overt and destructive attack on black Americans: abortion on demand.

Er," Oliver said. "He talks even less than the one Lily married," the crone remarked to Walter. "Though when the mood strikes him, he asks just as many questions as Galem." "I'm sorry," Oliver said weakly. The old woman nodded. "You are forgiven," she pronounced in a queenly tones.

Dad did a U-turn to take us back to the gas station so we could collect our winnings. My parents clung to the happiness of that ticket, thrilled to be rescued with a change in subject. We never stayed at my parents' friends' house again, but we also didn't talk about what I had said. Instead, we just went back to start. As if what I said happened to me happened to some other girl, in some other car, in some other life.

silent tears fall ruefully at midnight

I have listened and I have been quiet all my life. But now I will speak.

Whining is a form of manipulation. People will give anything to make you shut up.

The one thing that worries me is that with my mother gone, the voice in my head that tells me to be nice to others has been silenced forever. I fear for other people.

Doubt is the starting point of modern philosophy; the need to silence it had a most powerful stimulus on the development of modern philosophy and science. But although many rational doubts have been solved by rational answers, the irrational doubt has not disappeared and cannot disappear as long as man has not progressed from negative freedom to positive freedom.

O mnogim su stvarima razgovarali, a još su ih više prešutjeli.

It is too dangerous for me to put these things into words. I am afraid they might then become gigantic and I be no longer able to master them.

Night is nature's protest against the leprosy of civilization, Gottfried. No decent man can withstand it for long. He begins to notice that he has been turned out of the silent company of the trees, the animals, the stars, and unconscious life.

Nie entschuldigen, Baby. Nie reden. Blumen schicken. Ohne Brief. Nur Blumen. Die decken alles zu. Sogar Gräber.

Suddenly he knew all the things he should have said.

An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him.

I wanted to say something, but I could not. It is difficult to find words when one really has something to say. And even if one knows the right words, then one is ashamed to say them. All these words belong to other, earlier centuries. Our time has not the words yet to express its feelings. We can only be offhand—anything else rings false.

The screaming of the beasts becomes louder. One can no longer distinguish whence in this now quiet silvery landscape it comes; ghostly, invisible, it is everywhere, between heaven and earth it rolls on immeasurably.

To jedna z tych chwil, kiedy barwy siÄ™ rozpadajÄ…, a ?ycie szarzeje w bezsilnych dÅ'oniach. Mistyczny odpÅ'yw. Bezd?wiÄ™czna cezura miÄ™dzy oddechami. UkÄ…szenie czasu, który powoli po?era serce.

It is a strange thing that all the memories have these two qualities. They are always full of quietness, that is the most striking thing about them; and even when things weren't like that in reality, they still seem to have that quality. They are soundless apparitions, which speak to me by looks and gestures, wordless and silent—and their silence is precisely what disturbs me.

Suviše glasno? Šta je bilo suviše glasno? Samo tišina.

Peace, a fireplace, books, silence ... Before this was seen as one philistinism. Now these are dreams of a lost paradise.

What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother of his brothers or his sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him.