Quotes About Silence

It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobbledstreets silent and the hunched courters'-and-rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea.

The crisp path through the field in this December snow, in the deep dark, where we trod the buried grass like ghosts on dry toast.

I want to die, sometimes, my head hurts so much. I keep writing you all my brightest thoughts but I never say the dark ones, even though I think them all the time. So I am saying them now. Even if you do not answer, I will know somebody heard them, and that, at least, is something.

Silence is a protective coating over pain.

There was nothing I could say in retaliation except something that would confuse her.

When we say Shut up, Gat, that isn't what we mean at all.

So she did not replay, but played the strategist. She retained more power by withholding an answer.

My little brother is in rehab. My little brother is in rehab. I feel like these words are written on my arms whenever I push up my sleeves, written on my cheeks whenever they relax out of my fake smile. They want to come out of my mouth, all the time. When I am called upon in class, or when someone says, "Hey, what's up?" - that's what I want to answer. "My little brother's in rehab." But I never do.

Don't cause distress, she said. Don't remind people of a loss. "Do you understand, Cady? Silence is a protective coating over pain.

Do you still miss Gran?" I ask him as we head toward New Clairmont. "Because I miss her. We never talk about her." "A part of me died," he says. "And it was the best part.

They want you to be small and silent. Good was just another word for don't fight back.

Do you understand, Cady? Silence is a protective coating over pain.

Do you still miss Gran?" I ask him as we head toward New Clairmont. "Because I miss her. We never talk about her." "A part of me died," he says. "And it was the best part." "You think so?" I ask "That is all there is to say about it," says Granddad.

She wanted him to know his children and grandchildren were still around him, strong and merry as ever. It was important, she said; it was kind; it was best. Don't cause distress, she said. Don't remind people of a loss. "Do you understand, Cady? Silence is a protective coating over pain.

Sessizlik, ac?n?n üzerindeki koruyucu bir z?rh gibidir.

It was important, she said; it was kind; it was best. Don't cause distress, she said. Don't remind people of a loss. "Do you understand, Cady? Silence is a protective coating over pain.

Silence is a productive coating over pain." -We Were Liars

Silence is a protective coating over pain." I understood, and I managed to erase Granny Tipper from conversation, the same way I had erased my father. Not happily, but thoroughly.

Silence is a protective coating over pain. (p.29)

Every word affords me pain. Yet how sweet it would be if I could hear what the flowers have to say about death!

She asked if she could pray for her 'new father'—for the Italian!" "Did you let her?" "I got up without saying anything." "You must have felt just as you did when I wanted to pray for the devil." "He is the devil," cried Harriet. "No, Harriet; he is too vulgar.

Be silent!" shrieked the beldame. "I won't!" said Cap. "Because you see, if we are in for the horrible, I can beat you hollow at that!

With me the process is much more like bird-watching than like either talking or building. I see pictures. Some of the pictures have a common flavour, almost a common smell, which groups them together. Keep quiet and watch and they will begin joining themselves up.(quoting C.S. Lewis)

I waited for her to catch up, and when I did, she slowed down, and I missed seeing the light in her hair. I never told Nadia how much I liked seeing the halo the sunlight made of her hair. Sometimes silence is a habit that hurts.