Quotes About Silence

I don't talk about any of my projects until the production house makes an official announcement.

I don't say too much. Quavo and Offset - I don't talk as much as they talk. I observe the scene.

Oftentimes in a marriage, you really don't have to say anything. You can sort of have a conversation without words.

Listen, when somebody says, 'I take the fifth,' well, you know, they did something, OK? Why else would they take the fifth?

One thing I like to tell founders is the more you talk, the more you have an opportunity to say something that people don't like. Talk less, and it will probably be better.

The only time I am not talking is when I am dancing. I look like an electrocuted octopus.

Onstage, I find absolutely nothing but exhilaration in not talking.

There's something so delicious about holding onto a secret; it's something just for you.

Also, when I didn't like something, I could keep my opinion to myself.

Nothing can contribute more to peace of soul than the lack of any opinion whatever.

Like two doomed ships that pass in storm We had crossed each other's way: But we made no sign, we said no word, We had no word to say;

Down the long and silent street, The dawn, with silver-sandaled feet, Crept like a frightened girl.

MRS. ALLONBY. It is only fair to tell you beforehand he has got no conversation at all. LADY STUTFIELD. I adore silent men. MRS ALLONBY. Oh, Ernest isn't silent. He talks the whole time. But he has got no conversation. What he talks about I don't know. I haven't listened to him for years.

I love talking about nothing, father. It is the only thing I know anything about.

but love is not fashionable anymore, the poets have killed it. They wrote so much about it that nobody believed them, and I am not surprised. True love suffers, and is silent. I remember myself once-but no matter now. Romance is a thing of the past.

I wrote when I did not know life; now that I know life, I have no more to say.

Silently we went round and round, And through each hollow mind The memory of dreadful things Rushed like a dreadful wind, And horror stalked before each man, And terror crept behind.

I never quarrel with actions. My one quarrel is with words

Can they feel, I wonder, those white silent people we call the dead?

The post on her left was occupied by Mr. Erskine of Treadley, an old gentleman of considerable charm and culture, who had fallen, however, into bad habits of silence, having, as he explained once to Lady Agatha, said everything that he had to say before he was thirty.

Don't speak. Let me think, or, rather, let me try not to think.

There was a silence. The evening darkened in the room. Noiselessly and with silver feet the shadows crept in from the garden. The colours faded wearily out of things.

People who shout so loud, my lords, do nothing; the only men I fear are silent men

The less said about life's sores the better.