Quotes About Silence

If your work speaks for itself, don't interrupt.

When your work speaks for itself, don't interrupt.

We fight it down, and we live it down, or we bear it bravely well, But the best men die of a broken heart for the things they cannot tell.

My feelings for you shame me into silence.

People are best on records and books because you can turn them off or put them back on the shelf.

I was at this guy's house. I met this girl who was hanging out there. She was real pretty, she had brown eyes and dark hair. She was soft-spoken and real nice. I know that everyone has their own life and they can do what they want and you shouldn't think anything of it or anything. But man, I couldn't help but flinch a little when I saw all those needle marks in her arm, they looked so sore. Hateful little holes. I wanted to say something, but I didn't.

He shuffled into middle-age silently and without protest.

its no surprise to me that anyone hardly tells the truth about how they feel. The smart ones keep to themselves for good reason. Why would you want to tell anyone anything that's dear to you? Even when you like them and want nothing more than to be closer to them? It's so painful to be next to someone you feel so strongly about and know you can't say the things you want to.

The Jordans never spoke of the exam, not until their son, Dickie, was twelve years old.

All was silent as before - All silent save the dripping rain

Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike.

And the night shall be filled with music,And the cares, that infest the day,Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,And as silently steal away.

All was silent as before — All silent save the dripping rain.

Three silences there are: the first of speech,The second of desire, the third of thought.

But the father answered never a word,A frozen corpse was he.

Your silent tents of green We deck with fragrant flowers; Yours has the suffering been, The memory shall be ours.

What shall I say to you? What can I say Better than silence is?

In the long, sleepless watches of the night.

The holiest of holidays are those Kept by ourselves in silence and apart The secret anniversaries of the heart.

Well has it been said that there is no grief like the grief which does not speak.

Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.

And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, and silently steal away.

There are things of which I may not speak; There are dreams that cannot die; There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak, And bring a pallor into the cheek, And a mist before the eye.

A library is but the soul's burial-ground. It is the land of shadows.