Quotes About Silence

Sometimes words are not enough.

But I must admit I miss you terribly. The world is too quiet without you nearby.

Composer" is a word which here means "a person who sits in a room, muttering and humming and figuring out what notes the orchestra is going to play." This is called composing. But last night, the Composer was not muttering. He was not humming. He was not moving, or even breathing. This is called decomposing.

Dead women tell no tales. Sad men write them down.

Every time you enter a library you might say to yourself, "The world is quiet here," as a sort of pledge proclaiming reading to be the greater good.

Sometimes words are not enough. There are some circumstances so utterly wretched that I cannot describe them in sentences or paragraphs or even a whole series of books.

There are some secrets you want to keep to yourself, even if they don't matter. They might only matter if you keep them secret.

What you don't read is often as important as what you do read.

The library was one enormous room, with long, high metal shelves and the perfect quiet that libraries provide for anyone looking for an answer.

Keep anyone with whom you can read in silence.

Sunny did not reply, but her siblings were not alarmed because they imagined it was difficult to say much when you had a mouthful of wall.

It's an important skill to know when not to say anything. It's not a skill that came naturally to me then, nor does it come naturally now, nor do I expect it to come naturally to me until I am dead, when I will be very, very good at it.

Hello?" Violet said finally. The telephone said nothing. "Hello?" Violet said again. "Hello? Hello?" The telephone did not answer.

Who you are and what you read is private in a library.

There are words for a woman who walks the streets late at night," she said, with another meaningful look. "Words like insomniac.

It is extremely rude, of course, for an audience to talk during a concert performance

From time to time, the Baudelaire children looked at one another, but with their future such a mystery they could think of nothing to say.

The world is too quiet without you nearby.

Communist," he repeated. "You may have heard someone in a concentration admit to being a murderer and many agreed that they had been spies. A prisoner would sometimes even confess to having at one time - for a short while - been a Jew. But a communist, no. No one would ever let that word pass their lips.

Sign language occupies the interstice where space and silence come together; sign language is the locus where the body meets language.

Picon, who had remained silent for some time, now started assiduously to rearrange the fire-irons.

For a few seconds they looked silently into each other's eyes, and the distant and impossible suddenly became near, possible, and inevitable.

Speech is silver but silence is golden.

I suddenly felt tired of listening to my own voice.