Quotes About Silence

Half Moon made no response, except to reach out her tail and rest it on her old friend's shoulder.

For the next quarter moon," Bramblestar began, "no cat is to talk to Spotfur.

Brambleclaw muttered

This tree is breaking its vow of silence to remind you not to give the new apprentices nightmares

Lionblaze interrupted him as Dovepaw's and Ivypaw's eyes grew even wider. "This tree is breaking its vow of silence to remind you not to give the new apprentices nightmares," he warned.

And what do you know about it?" Crowpaw growled. "In WindClan, apprentices know when to keep their mouths shut." "Oh, so you'll be quiet from now on?" Squirrelpaw mewed cheekily. "Good.

What is so fragile that when you say its name you break it?

those words of old in their place of old end of part three and last present formulation at the end before the silence the panting without pause the animal in want of air the mouth murmuring them in the mud and the continuation of old when the panting stops ten words fifteen words a murmur to the mud

I love order. It's my dream. A world where all would be silent and still, and each thing in its last place, under the last dust.

another story leave it dark no the same story not two stories leave it dark all the same like the rest a little darker a few words all the same a few old words like for the rest stop panting let it stop

I use the words you taught me. If they don't mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.

I liked the solitude and the silence of the woods and the hills. I felt there the sense of a presence, something undefined and mysterious, which was reflected in the faces of the flowers and the movements of birds and animals, in the sunlight falling through the leaves and in the sound of running water, in the wind blowing on the hills and the wide expanse of earth and sky.

We're surrounded by a world that talks, but we don't listen. We're part of a community engaged in a vast conversation, but we deny our role in it. We haven't the courage to acknowledge our deep need for what we can't explain. The soul feeds on what takes us to the edge, but we don't go there willingly. Our longing is an echo of the Earth's.

Underneath all the texts, all the sacred psalms and canticles, these watery varieties of sounds and silences, terrifying, mysterious, whirling and sometimes gestating and gentle must somehow be felt in the pulse, ebb, and flow of the music that sings in me." Hildegard of Bingen

I realise there was little we could say to each other that wouldn't inflict some sort of pain. ... It was easier for people living in the aftermath to ask nothing rather than trespassing on each other's fragile memories. p240

In words lie the seeds of all dissension, and love at its most profound is silent.

Questions would be asked. Answers would be ignored.

I did feel a 'something', like a catch in the silence at the moment of creation.

Now I was used to it, the bell-like silence was louder than ever, and I was starting to get undertones of orange blossom and incense. You have to be careful with this stuff or you begin to sound like a wine taster—with about the same amount of meaningless bollocks.

I also noticed that the DJ had stopped talking over the tracks, and any DJ tired of the sound of his own voice is tired indeed.

feeling that now familiar change in the phase state of existence, like a catch in the silence at the moment of creation.

Words like that can cost a man his head.

All that we can't say is all we need to hear.

The story of the odd ones is perhaps no more interesting than the story that might be written of the letters that "tip them off." A story here, of the harried, buried little figures that make up the swarm of the city and of the way they glimpse mystery out of the corners of their eyes. Of the way they pause for a moment on their treadmill to wonder about the silent, shuffling caricature with its hooded face and its thin fingers groping under its heavy black cloak.