Quotes About Silence

The only language she could speak was grief. How could he not know that? Instead, she said, "I love you." She did. She loved him. But even that didn't feel like anything anymore.

Help" is a prayer that is always answered. It doesn't matter how you pray--with your head bowed in silence, or crying out in grief, or dancing. Churches are good for prayer, but so are garages and cars and mountains and showers and dance floors.

Blessed are they who hold lively conversations with the helplessly mute, for they shall be called dentists.

They were too showy, too public. Deep love between two people was a private, wordless endeavor,

snowed in with secrets. Whenever she opened

The snow fell softly on the street. It muffled sound. It sent people scurrying homeward, so that the street was soon deserted, empty, quiet. And it could have been any street in the city, for the snow laid a delicate film over the sidewalk, over the brick of the tired, old buildings; gently obscuring the grime and the garbage and the ugliness.

Lutie sat down near the back of the room. It was filled with colored women, sitting in huddled-over positions. They sat quietly, not moving. Their patient silence filled the room, made her uneasy. Why were all of them colored? Was it because the mothers of white children had safe places for them to play in, because the mothers of white children didn't have to work?

S]he loved more the wild wood-walks, that skirted the mountain; and still more the mountain's stupendous recesses, where the silence and grandeur of solitude impressed a sacred awe upon her heart

And now the Marquis, who interpreted her silence into a secret compliance with his proposal, resumed all his gaiety and spirit, while the long and ardent regards he bestowed on Adeline, overcame her with confusion and indignation.

Words said can never be recalled. So it is best, oftimes, not to speak too quickly. Yet words left unsaid are worse. We wear them like weights around our hearts.

Come mi fosse nuovo, osservo tutto. Umido aroma dei pioppi. E taccio. Taccio, pronta ad esser te di nuovo, terra.

Sono giunta fin qui, oziosa, è lo stesso per me dove annoiarmi! Sopra il colle il mulino riposa. Qui puoi stare in silenzio per anni.

In those years only the dead smiled, glad to be at rest.

Regarding myself as a mere echo, Cave-like, unintelligible and nocturnal . . .

Song falls silent, music is dumb, But the air burns with their fragrance, And white winter, on its knees, Observes everything with reverent attention.

I defend Not my voice, but my silence

I've got no more tears or explanations.

How many poems did I not write? They hang in the air around me, a weird choir, And some day May suffocate me...

And in the depths of music, I didn't find the answer, And again there was silence, and again the ghost of summer.

I've ceased to smile long ago, The bitter winds now chill my lips, Another hope was just let go, Another song was added since. Against my will, I'll cede this song To people's laughter and offense, Because love's silence for the soul Is too unbearably immense.

Beyond the lake the waning moon has slowed, And stands there like a window open wide Into a hushed and brightly lit abode Where something dreadful has occurred inside.

We never quite learned to part, -We wander slowly side by side. Outside it's starting to get dark, I'm silent, - you're preoccupied. We'll enter a church and we'll see Baptisms, marriages, mass. A minute later, we'll leave… Why is everything different with us? Or we'll sit on the trampled snow In a dark cemetery and sigh, With a stick in your hand, you'll draw A palace for just you and I.

A solitary sorceress: her shadow is still visible on the eve of the new moon.

He never asks for endearment, all quiet, Only gazes at me all the time, And he bears with a blissful smile This distressing oblivion of mine.