Quotes About Silence

The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails.

My grief lies all within; and these external manner of laments are merely shadows of the unseen grief that swells with silence in the tortur'd soul.

The shadow of my sorrow. Let's see, 'tis very true. My griefs lie all within and these external manners of laments are mere shadows to the unseen grief which swells with silence in the tortured soul. There lies the substance.

Tush! Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate; Talkers are no good doers: be assured We come to use our hands and not our tongues.

O,speak to me no more;these words like daggers enter my ears.(a fancy way of saying SHUT UP!) — William Shakespeare hamlet

Then others for breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.

Demand me nothing: what you know, you know.

I have no words. My voice is in my sword.

No, I will be the pattern of all patience; I will say nothing.

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms, No noise, but silence and eternal sleep: In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!

What, gone without a word? Ay, so true love should do. It cannot speak, For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it. (2.2.17-19)

Love, and be silent.

Be not so long to speak; I long to die

One good deed dying tongueless slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.

The crow signs as sweetly as the lark when no one's paying attention to them, and I think that if the nightingale sang during the day while all the geese were cackling, people would think it sounded no better than a wren. So many things are made perfect and as they should be by good timing! But quiet. Look how the moon won't be awakened. It must be sleeping with  [Endymion

twould almost damn those ears; The author's meaning is this:—That some people are thought wise whilst they keep silence; who, when they open their mouths, are such stupid praters, that the hearers cannot help calling them fools, and so incur the judgment denounced in the Gospel.—THEOBALD.

O, let my books be then the eloquence And dumb presagers of my speaking breast; Who plead for love, and look for recompense, More than that tongue that more hath more express'd. O, learn to read what silent love hath writ: To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit.

How every fool can play upon the word! I think the best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence, and discourse grow commendable in none only but parrots.

L'amore, com'io penso, e la ingenuità d'una lingua impacciata, pur senza parlare, sanno significare molto.

Lady you berfet me of all words,/Only my blood speaks to you in my veins,/ And there is such confusion in my powers.

Gib Worte deinem Schmerz: Gram, der nicht spricht, / Presst das beladene Herz, bis dass es bricht.

I like your silence, it the more shows off your wonder.

Remember. Oh, remember. How remember moments of forgotten time? Where is the way now (she wondered) through that dark up-spreading wood? Leaf, locust, sunlight in the hollow, all those she had known, all had fled like years. Now silence sounds where no light falls, and she has lost the way.

hound weren't the only ones awake that night.