Quotes About Silence

From the first two-hour class on, I had not said a word. I wanted them to know a little bit of what it is like to be deaf: lost, confused, unable to communicate.

What's interesting about the studies is that prelingually deaf people (people such as my parents, who were born deaf or who lost their hearing early on) have no interior monologue.

In most of us there is a tiny voice we consult as part of our thought processes. Deaf people literally don't hear themselves thinking.

I have heard and hidden the insults so long, I have been the conduit so long that I am disappearing!

The notion that the womb is a silent place is pure fantasy. If a person dives under water, he hears very little because sound is muffled by the cushion of air remaining outside the eardrum. A fetus has no air bubble outside its ear, and water conducts sound better than air.

You know, some people got no choice, and they can never find a voice, to talk with that they can even call their own. So the first thing that they see, that allows them the right to be, why they follow it, you know, it's called bad luck..

No further use now for this language, this learning, this whole education through which I was taught to exert myself at the heart of the world. Mirage or mirror, a great enchantment glows in this darkness and leans against the door-jam of ravages in the classic pose assumed by death immediately after shedding her shroud. O my image of bone, here I am: let everything finally decompose in the palace of illusions and silence.

Bérénice ne pouvait s'empêcher d'allier à Paris frémissant, inconnu, mystérieux, ce grand garçon silencieux qui n'avait rien fait pour l'importuner, qui lui avait tout juste passé les plats à table, mais dont elle avait une fois rencontré le regard.

Il a l'âme bouleversée de ceux qui furent élevés à se taire.

So as not to be murdered twice over. "Other times," I continued, "I believe we love them too much. And as a consquence they are never free to depart, because we carry them, our most deeply beloved, within ourselves. Never dead, never silent, never appeased.

triltintelende starrenachten

Or because they hope these walls of books will deaden the drumming of the demon in their ears

Más allá comienza el misterio. Más acá, no hay misterio, no hay esoterismo, no hay más sombras que las que proyectan nuestros deseos y sobre todo, nuestro orgullo. Pero como es más fácil contentarse con ideas y palabras que hacer algo con las manos, con dolor y con fatiga, en el silencio y en la soledad, también es más cómodo buscar un refugio en el pensamiento llamado "puro" que luchar cuerpo a cuerpo contra el peso y las tinieblas de la materia.

The prime purpose of eloquence is to keep other people from talking.

The more the words of others impressed him with their factual content, the more he felt he must wait for his own facts before being tempted into words.

May is, Airs wreathe (times) : and they mirror: plus Silence supports my pretension . . the parts Ascend a tone, repeating, (tin ears) thus (Listen) move past Jesus ratted in starch; My contention . . that the slight disregards My costs: Recorders: Fa - as what wind blew Tossed coins in herrings heads, what journey thru Mi et Mi Fa . . tota Musica, dearth Such as voice courting voice has such value Labor light lights in air, in earth, on earth

At midnight tears Run into your ears.

I'll lie here and learn How, over their ground, Trees make a long shadow And a light sound.

To be an artist, you need to exist in a world of silence.

Quando decidi di non dire qualcosa devi continuare a non dirlo. Basta poco, penso. Basta poco per trasformare la tua vita in una menzogna.

Before my daughter was lost to me, I might have attributed his apparent stillness and control to a lack of feeling, but now I know, to my cost, that appearing unfeeling is the price we sometimes pay for being able to speak at all.

To be silent. In hopes of not offending, in hopes of being accepted. But what happened to people who never spoke, never raised their voices? Kept everything inside? Gamache knew what happened. Everything they swallowed, every word, thought, feeling rattled around inside, hollowing the person out. And into that chasm they stuffed their words, their rage.

Not a spoon clinked against a mug, not a creamer was popped, peeled and opened, not a breath. It was as though something else had joined them then. As though silence had taken a seat.

He walked over the arched stone bridge, enjoying the silence of the village. Snow did that. It laid down a simple, clean duvet that muffled all sound and kept everything beneath alive. Farmers and gardeners in Quebec wished for two things in winter: lots of snow and continuous cold. An early thaw was a disaster. It tricked the young and vulnerable into exposing themselves, only to be nipped in the root. A killing frost.