Quotes About Silence

They did what friends do when all else has failed…they sat with her in companionable silence…and let her know they cared.

You mean you're against a match with Miss Mercer?" "Well…yes. But I'm also against a match with Beatrix." Silence fell over the room. "This is a trick of some sort," Leo said. "Unfortunately, it's not," Christopher replied.

It's easy for us to mistake shyness for coldness, and silence for indifference. You could have exerted yourself a bit, you know. One brief meeting between the two of us…one smile from you…was all the encouragement I would have needed to jump on you like a grouse on laurel.

Many times in life I've regretted the things I've said without thinking. But I've never regretted the things I said nearly as much as the words I left unspoken.

A man's vanity is more fragile that you might think. It's easy for us to mistake shyness for coldness, and silence for indifference.

You know what I'm thinking?' Maggie said. I had no idea. 'Nope,' David replied. Apparently David didn't know either. Maggie turned to me with pleading eyes.'Our babysitter has the flu.' 'I'm sorry to hear that,' I replied. Dead silence. I honestly had no idea what Maggie was getting at, so I misread the silence. 'It's not serious, I hope,' I said sympathetically.

Owen looked at Greg, who shrugged. Owen had no idea what the shrug was intended to convey. Greg rarely said anything. But unlike most people who use words sparingly, he hadn't developed superior forms of nonverbal communication.

This is what Helen has learned: it is possible to be so tired you cannot reach for the sky, you cannot breathe. You can't even talk. You can't pick up the phone. You can't do a dish or dance or cook or do up your own zipper.

And then it finally did happen. I just lay there in shock. It hurt so bad, and I thought, "God, please, let me die." As he put himself inside me, I wanted to scream for help, but there was no one to help me. I had nowhere to hide. My mother's room, my little sister's embrace, Uncle Fred, Uncle Warren, nothing and no one would save me, and so I lay there silently, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, watching a part of me die.

Don't let your tongue be your worst enemy. —John Franzese CHAPTER

God wasn't giving me a megaphone. He was telling me to shut up. To be still and know.

Sad thing when stories die for the lack of listenin' ears.

Not appreciating the noise until she was surrounded by silence.

hear the tune, she must only stop talking. To herself, I mean. We're always trying to persuade ourselves of things.

A wise old owl sat on an oak; The more he saw, the less he spoke; The less he spoke, the more he heard. Why aren't we like that wise old bird?

Usually, the foreman found some reason to hold back some of Rusty's check, because Rusty'd showed up a few minutes late, or broke some tool, or something. He knew Rusty couldn't say anything about it, any more than all the illegals who worked down there could. Some folks just have to keep their heads down and take it, even if it's not fair, because they don't have anywhere else to go.

shush my mind, because your mind can ruin you if you let it.

I fall quiet in my seat as we circle round and round that miniature city of the future. I wonder, Father, in that future city is there a tiny colored girl who no longer keeps her eyes down?

Even a fish wouldn't get into trouble if he kept his mouth shut.

An enigma? That's not a bad persona to have. I should probably shut up and let the mystery continue! It's good for my career.

She thought of all the words that went unspoken in the world, throughout time: what happened to them, where did they go? What would happen if they were all spoken? How different would the world be then?

I am that last, that final thing, the body in a white sheet listening,

There are words we say in the dark. There are words we speak in the light. And sometimes they're the same words.

It's just time: the book I read, the letter I write, the window I look out of. Just a sleeve I keep trying to mend, the spool diminishing. Just my one hand writing words, my other hand weighing the silences between them. — Li-Young Lee, from "Cloudy Mirror: A Forward," The Winged Seed: A Remembrance (Simon & Schuster, 1995)