Quotes About Silence

Her beautiful face was blank as an unwritten book.

I hated him and his silence ferociously: I knew he was only letting me convince myself there was nothing to be done.

It annoyed me more and not less because I didn't have a good reason for being annoyed. I couldn't even come up with anything to say about it.

The lightning took away the world again, that single terrible moment of blind white silence everywhere around me, and then it jumped away from me roaring with thunder and struck the massive heart-tree, a shattering blow down the middle.

Blue shadows stretched out over the snow, cast by a pale thin light shining somewhere behind me, and as my breath rose in quick clouds around my face, the snow crunched: some large creature, picking its way toward the sleigh.

Silence waits for truth to break it

One of my favorite quotations is this, from the late poet Audre Lorde: "My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you." It is truer now more than ever. This is a dangerous moment indeed.

If you must speak ill of another, do not speak it . . .

If you must slander someone, don't speak it - but write it - write it in the sand, near the water's edge!

Genuine wisdom is usually conspicuous through modesty and silence.

Ricordate inoltre che ogniqualvolta aprite la bocca in presenza di una persona che possiede abbondanza di cognizioni, le mostrate l'esatta riserva delle vostre conoscenze, o la loro mancanza! La vera saggezza è caratterizzata dalla modestia e dal silenzio.

Have I, have you, been too silent? Is there an easy crime of silence?

To know silence perfectly is to know music.

The fog comes on little cat feet.

Passers-by, Out of your many faces Flash memories to me Now at the day end Away from the sidewalks Where your shoe soles traveled And your voices rose and blent To form the city's afternoon roar Hindering an old silence.

Better the blue silence and the gray west, The autumn mist on the river, And not any hate and not any love, And not anything at all of the keen and the deep: Only the peace of a dog head on a barn floor, And the new corn shoveled in bushels And the pumpkins brought from the corn rows, Umber lights of the dark, Umber lanterns of the loam dark. Here a dog head dreams. Not any hate, not any love. Not anything but dreams. Brother of dusk and umber.

8819Passers-by, Out of your many faces Flash memories to me Now at the day end Away from the sidewalks Where your shoe soles traveled And your voices rose and blent To form the city's afternoon roar Hindering an old silence.

The dead say nothing And the dead know much And the dead hold under their tongues A locked-up story.

So true prayer demands that we be more passive than active; it requires more silence than words, more adoration than study, more concentration than rushing about, more faith than reason. We must understand thoroughly that true prayer is a gift from heaven to earth, the Father to his child; from the Bridegroom to the bride, from him who has to one who has not, from Everything to nothing.

And yet that mother is right. She has sacrificed herself for her family. The others have allowed themselves plenty of freedom. She has had no share of it. She has worked, slaved, given up every moment of her day. But there's something more serious, something which is the real cause of suffering. She hasn't been understood. They have taken her for granted; they haven't, for example, noticed her crying in silence.

And if, through this desire of ours to say something, or do something, you feel that you must open your mouth, then do this: choose one word or a little phrase which well expresses your love for him; and then go on repeating it in peace, without trying to form thoughts, motionless in love before God who is love.

The internal dialogue is what grounds people in the daily world. The world is such and such or so and so, only because we talk to ourselves about its being such and such and so and so. The passageway into the world of shamans opens up after the warrior has learned to shut off his internal dialogue

He remarked that each of us was barred from silent knowledge by natural barriers, specific to each individual; and that the most impregnable of my barriers was the drive to disguise my complacency as independence.

Suspiré.Nos amparaba el anochecer y aquel silencio de abandono que une a los extraños, y me sentí con valor de decir cualquier cosa, aunque fuese por última vez.