Quotes About Silence

I don't know what came over me. It's like sometimes when it's very quiet I feel like screaming. And sometimes when I'm holding something delicate I feel like dropping it. I don't know why.

They spoke in semaphore, all punctuation unnecessary. "You?" "Great." They'd trimmed the language to its essentials. Before long it would just be consonants. Then silence.

They stared ahead. Silent. Morin had never realized murderers were caught in silence. But they were.

Isabelle [Lacoste] sat quietly for a moment, looking into the naked woods. Only in the winter was it possible to see both the forest and the trees. Homicide, she thought, was a perpetual winter.

always struck him how much more effective silence was than words. If the effect you were after was to disconcert.

But you want murderous feelings? Hang around librarians," confided Gamache. "All that silence. Gives them ideas.

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.

there are generally three parties to child abuse. The abused, the abuser and the bystander. One parent does it but the other knows it's happening and does nothing.

Armand Gamache had another skill that Brébeuf didn't seem to possess. He could disappear, when he chose. And it appeared he chose to disappear at that moment. Armand Gamache sat quietly. Almost a hole in the room.

But you want murderous feelings? Hang around librarians," confided Gamache. "All that silence. Gives them ideas." They laughed and as they walked back

His magical thinking allowed him to be surprised that when such a good soul dies it isn't remarked. The bells of the church didn't set themselves off. The mice and deer didn't cry out. The earth didn't shudder. It should have.

He searched her face, his icy-blue eyes keen and cold. She knew she should hold him, should tell him how much she loved him and trusted him and needed him. But something held her back. There it was again. A silence between them. Something else unsaid. Is this how it starts? Clara wondered. Those chasms between couples, filled not with comfort and familiarity, but with too much unsaid, and too much said.

Gamache listened closely. To the words. The tone. The space between the words.

crevices. There was a noise in his

And in the silence Leduc realized what Gamache exuded. It wasn't force. It was power.

When Mutti and Vati came in I didn't speak to them. I just unfurled the CAT MOLESTERS banner I had made." ? Louise Rennison, Knocked Out by My Nunga-Nungas

quiet for a sunny London afternoon. He said, 'It's too quiet.

Not much music left inside us for life to dance to. Our youth has gone to the ends of the earth to die in the silence of the truth. And where, I ask you, can a man escape to, when he hasn't enough madness left inside him? The truth is an endless death agony. The truth is death. You have to choose: death or lies. I've never been able to kill myself.

The deepest moments of intimacy occur when you're not talking.

The trees grew too thickly, and their trunks were too big for any healthy New England wood. There was too much silence in the dim alleys between them.

Clear nights are sometimes the coldest.

tacito mala vota susiro concipimus" -- Lucan v 94 With silent whisperings we, For ill things supplicants be.

Your silence exists as does my self gathering. But so does the almost absolute silence of the world's dawning. In such suspension, before every utterance on earth, there is a cloud, an almost immobile air. The plants already breathe, while we still ask ourselves how to speak to each other, without taking breath away from them.

they are shrouding words so that families cannot find them.