Quotes About Silence

Hastanenin arazisi yeni yaÄŸm?? karla örtülüydü -bu bir Noel serpintisi deÄŸil, ocak ay?n?n adam boyu kar?yd?, okullar?, iÅŸ yerlerini, kiliseleri kapatt?r?p bir gün boyunca ya da daha uzun süreyle not ve randevu defterlerinin, masa takvimlerinin üstünde bomboÅŸ, tertemiz bir sayfa b?rakan türden bir kar.

The balled Pulp of your heart Confronts its small Mill of silence

A wi?c teraz b?d? rozmawia? ka?dej nocy. Z sob? sam?. Z ksi??ycem. B?d? chodzi?, tak jak dzi?, zazdro?nie strzeg?c swojej samotno?ci, w niebieskosrebrnej po?wiacie zimnego ksi??yca, migocz?cej cudownie na zaspach ?wie?ego ?niegu miriad? iskierek.

By?o mi oboj?tnie i bardzo pusto - tak musi by? w oku cyklonu. Absolutna cisza w samym ?rodku szalej?cego ?ywio?u.

conversing, in low tones, with the asylum librarian, an alumna

What do you do? I asked the man, to break the silence shooting up around me on all sides, thick as jungle grass

The moon has nothing to be sad about, Staring from her hood of bone. She is used to this type of thing. Her blacks crackle and drag.

Worse Even than your maddening Song, your silence.

I wanted to tell her that if only something were wrong with my body it would be fine, I would rather have anything wrong with my body than wrong with my head, but the idea seemed so wrong and wearisome that I didn't say anything. I only burrowed down further in the bed.

A stiff breeze lifted the hair from my head. At my feet, the city doused its lights in sleep, its buildings blackened, as if for a funeral.

The silence surged back, smoothing itself as black water smooths to its old surface calm over a dropped stone.

The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence. I knew perfectly well the cars were making a noise, and the people in them and behind the lit windows of the buildings were making a noise, and the river was making a noise, but I couldn't hear a thing. The city hung in my window, flat as a poster, glittering and blinking, but it might just as well not have been there at all, for all the good it did me.

El silencio me deprimió. No era el silencio del silencio. Era mi propio silencio. Sabía perfectamente que los coches hacían ruido, y que la gente que iba dentro o la que estaba detrás de las ventanas iluminadas de los edificios hacía ruido, y que el río hacía ruido, y sin embargo no podía escuchar nada.

The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence. I knew perfectly well the cars were making a noise, and the people in them and behind the lit windows of the buildings were making a noise, and the river was making a noise, but I couldn't hear a thing. The city hung in my window, flat as a poster, glittering and blinking, but it might just as well not have been there at all, for the good it did me.

Entonces Constantino y la intérprete rusa y todo aquel montón de hombres negros y blancos y amarillos discutiendo allá abajo detrás de sus micrófonos rotulados parecieron alejarse en la distancia. Vi sus bocas subir y bajar sin sonido, como si estuvieran sentados en la cubierta de un buque que partía, dejándome en medio de un enorme silencio.

El silencio me deprimía. No era realmente el silencio. Era mi propio silencio.

Cisza podzia?a?a na mnie przygn?biaj?co. Nie ta na zewn?trz, ale ta, co by?a we mnie samej.

Only the mouth-hole piped out, Importunate cricket In a quarry of silences. The people of the city heard it. They hunted the stones, taciturn and separate, The mouth-hole crying their locations. Drunk as a fetus I suck at the paps of darkness. The food tubes embrace me. Sponges kiss my lichens away. The jewelmaster drives his chisel to pry Open one stone eye. This is the after-hell: I see the light. A wind unstoppers the chamber

To ticho mÄ› deprimovalo. PÃ…â"¢itom to nebylo ticho normálního ticha. Bylo to moje vlastní ticho.

I can only hazard. In the back of my mind there are bombs falling, women and children screaming, but I can't describe it now.

Van valami végleges abban, ahogyan valaki elt?nik lassan az úton, nem fordul meg, nem néz vissza. (…) Van valami végtelenül nyomorúságos, végtelenül végleges az üres útban. Csak mégy tovább, hallgatsz. (Egy júniusi nap)

bare trees with black clots of rookeries

Listen and shut up, oh, ye of little faith.

175 The Courage of Shutting-Up The courage of the shut mouth, in spite of artillery! The line pink and quiet, a worm, basking. There are black disks behind it, the disks of outrage, And the outrage of a sky, the lined brain of it. The disks revolve, they ask to be heard — Loaded, as they are, with accounts of bastardies.