Quotes About Silence

I tell Mark I'm glad to see some cup holders were left in place. I recognize the brief, polite silence that follows. It's Mark Roman rendered mute by the fullness of my ignorance. They're rifle holders.

Now she's coming out one of the nostrils, across the septum, and then she's going to reenter the mouth. There are a variety of ways of closing the mouth," he adds, and then he begins talking about something called a needle injector. I pose my own mouth to resemble the mouth of someone who is quietly horrified, and this works quite well to close Theo's mouth. The suturing proceeds in silence. Theo

There is one thing dead people excel at. They're

We picked up a pilot outside the Lewes breakwater a man of few words.

Death! mysterious, ill-visaged friend of weak humanity! Why alone of all mortals have you cast me from your sheltering fold? Oh, for the peace of the grave! the deep silence of the iron-bound tomb! that thought would cease to work in my brain, and my heart beat no more with emotions varied only by new forms of sadness!

Alas! he is cold, he cannot answer me.

solitude was my only consolation—deep, dark, deathlike solitude.

avoided explanation, and maintained a continual silence concerning the wretch I had created. I had a feeling that I should be supposed mad, and this for ever chained my tongue, when I would have given the whole world to have confided the fatal secret.

A good house, deep in the woods, with a garden all around it and a river flowing past it. Fruit trees, and flowers planted for the bees. A place to grow my herbs. Silence in winter, and in summer nothing but the birds. Lonely as the grave, and every bit as restful.

Silence then, and the scent of apple trees, and the nightmare sense of grief that comes when a man wakes again to feel a loss he has forgotten in sleep.

choaked my utterance. I was answered through the stillness of night by a loud and fiendish laugh. It rung

I was often tempted, when all was at peace around me, and I the only unquiet thing that wandered restless in a scene so beautiful and heavenly - if I except some bat, or the frogs, whose harsh and interrupted croaking was heard only when I approached the shore - often, I say, I was tempted to plunge into the silent lake, that the waters might close over me and my calamities forever.

These reflections determined me, and I resolved to remain silent.

Sometimes I wished to express my sensations in my own mode, but the uncouth and inarticulate sounds which broke from me frightened me into silence again.

Shut up or I'll kill you.

Truth can remain silent. Lies must be spoken.

Perché invero che cosa c'è da sapere su chi scompare? Che cosa c'è da sapere su chi è diventato invisibile? Che cosa c'è da sapere su chi sta sanguinando con la bocca piena di foglie scure?

The temple bell stops But the sound keeps coming out of the flowers

Rumi speaks often of the power of silence to take us to what we are looking for. In one poem he says: We search for him here and there while looking right at Him. Sitting at His side we ask, "O Beloved, where is the Beloved?" Enough with such questions! — Let silence take you to the core of life. All your talk is worthless When compared to one whisper of the Beloved.

Wisdom speaks with a silent tongue.

How silent lies the world Within fair twilight furled, Bringing such sweet relief! A quiet room resembling, Where, without fear or trembling, You sleep away day's grief.

Betsy did not answer. She was a talker, her family always said, but sometimes when she most wanted to talk she couldn't say a word.

Joe Willard turned from his study of the trees beyond the window and raised his hand. 'Yes, Joe?' Mr. Gaston said, changing his tone. 'It is my opinion sir, that apple blossoms are pink.' Mr. Gaston was silent, stunned. 'Pinkish, rather.' Joe continued. 'I think Betsy's word 'rosy' is excellent. They're colored just enough to make the effect rosy.' The silence in the room had width, height, depth, mass and substance.

The sounds of silence are a dim recollection now, like mystery, privacy and paying attention to one thing — or one person — at a time.