Quotes About Silence

And the deep thrumming of the forest that too many people mistake for silence.

I looked over at him. Is that a proposal? There was total silence for a couple beats. I'm not sure. It just popped out. Let me know when you're sure. Would you say yes? Morelli asked. I'm not sure.

Babe,' Ranger said. 'Do something with her.' And he disconnected. I called Ranger back. 'No,' I said. 'And I need information on Jelly Kantner. His apartment got blown up, and I need to find him.' And I should do this why?' Because you like me.' There was a full beat of silence. 'I do,' Ranger said. 'I like you a lot. Sometimes I'm not sure why. Give me a couple minutes.

This is a little awkward, I said, but my mother just ran over the rabbit. Ran over? As in roadkill. We're not sure what to do about it. Where are you? Giovichinni's, buying lunch meat. And the rabbit? Gone. He was with two other guys. They scooped him up off the road and drove away with him. There was a long silence on the phone. I'm fucking speechless, Morelli finally said.

I hung my head. Ranger was next on the list. "Yo," Ranger said when he answered. "Small problem." "No kidding. Your car just went off the screen." "It sort of burned up." Silence. "And you know that keypad you gave me? It was in the car." "Babe.

I felt my cell phone buzz, and I looked at the screen. Ranger. "Your GPS just went blank," Ranger said when I answered. "The car exploded." There was a beat of silence. "Rafael won the pool," Ranger said. "Are you okay?" "Yes." "I'll send someone.

That might work, I said. I'm good at faking it. This led to a couple moments of uncomfortable silence from both of us. You didn't mean... ? Morelli asked. No. Of course not. Never? Maybe once. His eyes narrowed. Once? It's all that comes to mind. It was the time we were late for your Uncle Spud's birthday party. I remember that. That was great. You're telling me you faked it? We were late! I couldn't concentrate. It seemed like the best way to go.

It means that he looks like my boyfriend, but I don't say it out loud.

We better hurry, Grandma said. I don't want to be late for the viewing. I want to get a good seat right up front, and there'll probably be a crowd, being that the deceased was shot. You know how some people are nosy about that sort of thing. There was silence at the table, no one daring to make a comment. Well, I guess I might be a little nosy, Grandma finally said.

Günter killed his light and waited in the pitch-black, straining his ears for the noise to repeat itself.

When are you going to start saying nothing?

Everyone in the room was silent for a moment. Annie stared openmouthed at the man beneath her. So he'd noticed her after all. Her ego moved up a notch. Not that he was her type, mind you. Not that she had a type. But Wes looked, well, he looked a little dangerous, a little rough around the edges. Besides, she'd sworn off men. Still . . . Wes made her feel sort of feminine, like she should go upstairs and put on a pair of panty hose. Not a good sign.

echo, the death of a sound that had nowhere to go but to come back.

The nearest I'd come to feeling anything like God was the plan blue cloudless sky and a certain silence, but how do you pray to that?

Death disapearance was what you didnt talk about. like a sewer running under the street, the shit was down there, out of sight, but you could smell it, it didnt go away, it didnt vanish

My words, that's what she wanted. What's this? she kept asking. What's this? But how could I tell her? She'd taken all the words.

You never thought, maybe I should have left Astrid some words.

If you didn't have anything truly great to offer, something truly amazing, then you should just shut the fuck up.

People dread silence because it is transparent; like clear water, which reveals every obstacle—the used, the dead, the drowned, silence reveals the cast-off words and thoughts dropped in to obscure its clear stream. And when people stare too close to silence they sometimes face their own reflections, their magnified shadows in the depths, and that frightens them. I know; I know.

She grew more and more silent about what really mattered. She curled inside herself like one of those black chimney brushes, the little shellfish you see on the beach, and you touch them, and then go inside and don't come out.

The warily silent Hughes has protected his secrets better than his sister has: no one can use his words against him. But everyone can—and does—speculate about his motives.

Most of us walk around with our ears switched off because so much noise is unpleasant.

From Ernest Hemingway's stories, I learned to listen within my stories for what went unsaid by my characters.

In the world of diplomacy, some things are better left unsaid.