Quotes About Silence

If I tap that little bell, I can send you to a place where you will never hear the dogs bark.

We should not forget that our tradition is one of protest and revolt, and it is stultifying to celebrate the rebels of the past ... while we silence the rebels of the present.

They walked as old friends walk, without often speaking, sharing the kind of silence that is not so much silence as a kind of still communication.

The strange white world lay stroked by silence. No birds sang. The garden was no longer there, in this forested land. Nor were the out-buildings nor the old crumbling walls. There lay only a narrow clearing round the house now, hummocked with unbroken snowdrifts, before the trees began, with a narrow path leading away.

I wanted to say something to make her feel better, but I didn't know what words could have that much magic.

I love you, he shouted, but he kept the words inside his head, because they were too small to express the immensity of what he felt.

Tess once walked into their bedroom and found them sitting up in bed, perfectly silent, holding hands in the twilight. That image had stayed with her, had given her the notion that love lasts forever.

There are some stories that you don't tell aloud, that you make up and tell silently to yourself.

Mrs. Hale had not moved. "If there had been years and years of—nothing, then a bird to sing to you, it would be awful—still—after the bird was still.

This is often the way one moves into the future. For what you begin to see, there is no ready language. If you were to remain silent, listen, perhaps in response you might be able to move in a new way. Glide into it slowly, aware of every slight difference, skin and cells intelligent, reading. But trained as you are in certain regimens, chances are you proceed directly according to the old patterns, trying again what was tried before.

Why I can report on a computer keyboard what I cannot bear to say aloud remains a mystery to me, but so it goes. Maybe my inability to speak propelled the obsessive reading and writing.

She had a ghostly pallor and a dreadful expression, she wore clothes that were out of keeping with the styles of the present-day; she had kept her distance from me and she had not spoken. Something emanating from her still, silent presence, in each case by a grave, had communicated itself to me so strongly that I had felt indescribable repulsion and fear. And she had appeared and then vanished in a way that surely no real, living, fleshly human being could possibly manage to do. And

Dia membayangkan dirinya dipintal oleh 'Sang Waktu, Pemintal paling hebat dan paling lama dari semuanya', tapi mengakui bahwa,'tempat pemintalannya adalah tempat rahasia, pekerjaannya tak bersuara dan Tangan-Tangan Sang Waktu diredam.

it felt as if she'd floated up above the clouds to the edge of space and was now surrounded by a vacuum of nothing. No air, no wind, no feeling in her body. As

We moved wordlessly from one room to another, from the room of the dead to the room where time lay in pages everywhere I looked.

We are both of us torn by the weight of knowing all these people cannot possibly be witches. If we speak in their defense, we become accused. If we say nothing, we condemn them falsely with our silence. What would God have us do?

You don't have to say everything you're thinking, Elise," he said.

Where were you all this time? she said. Where have you been? I guess far away. Yes you were. Too far away. They sat in silence. You know you frightened me a little, she said. At the beginning. No. You did. He smiled at that. You looked as if you didnt anyone, she said. But this are the ones who need the most, he said. Don't you know that? I do know, she said. Too late.

I doubt that anyone in town belongs to the Klan, or even its more respectable cousin, the White Citizens' Council. They'd simply prefer to leave the past unexamined, cover it with honeysuckle, and go back to their bourbon. It's the kind of response that ensures no one will reflect on the ways that past seeps into present.

The library is a whispering post. You don't need to take a book off a shelf to know there is a voice inside that is waiting to speak to you, and behind that was someone who truly believed that if he or she spoke, someone would listen.

The fire in the library was colorless.

cardinal sin in a library, where the commitment to findability is absolute.

A library is a good place to soften solitude; a place where you feel part of a conversation that has gone on for hundreds and hundreds of years even when you're all alone.

If I could unhinge myself from myself, attach to bookshelves, sever my tongue, I would watch as it grew back, rejuvenated and ready to speak