Quotes About Silence

The silence at the end of the song is as important as the song itself.

He just stared at me, his eyes shining blank circles, and seemed to know exactly who it was, standing behind the juniper bushes. But he stayed quiet. He was a good dog. And I loved him.

What was it about those silent exchanges in a crowded place? There was a magic to them, like a secret shared.

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you," wrote Angelou. Silence is pain. But it is a pain with an exit route. When we can't speak, we can write. When we can't write, we can read. When we can't read, we can listen. Words are seeds. Language is a way back to life. And it is sometimes the most vital comfort we have.

Listen more than you talk.

I stared at myself in the mirror. I stared at my face until it was not my face. I went back to the table and sat down and I did not say how I was feeling to anyone. To say how I was feeling would lead to feeling more of what I was feeling.

Mum said Oh God oh please God oh God oh please please oh God and God said nothing.

The hall fell silent. I had never heard a silence like it. The whole hall seemed to be holding its breath. It felt civilized and modern. It felt refined and tantalizing all at once, like a polite collective pre-orgasm.

And then he - Tchaikovsky - turned towards the little lectern that was on the stage, picked up his baton and held it in the air. He paused a moment. It was like watching an old wizard with a wand, summoning the energy needed to cast the spell. The hall fell silent. I had never heard a silence like it. The whole hall seemed to be holding its breath. It felt civilised and modern. It felt refined and tantalising all at once, like a polite collective pre-orgasm.

The silence of not needing to talk. Of just being together, of together-being. The way you could be happily silent with yourself.

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you', wrote Angelou. Silence is pain. But it is a pain with an exit route. When we can't speak, we can write. When we can't write, we can read. When we can't read, we can listen.

She had known three types of silence in relationships. There was passive-aggressive silence, obviously, there was the we-no-longer-have-anything-to-say silence, and then there was the silence that Eduardo and she seemed to have cultivated. The silence of not needing to talk. Of just being together, of together-being. The way you could be happily silent with yourself.

silence   Humans fear silence. If you ever want to make one feel uncomfortable, stop in the middle of a conversation for no apparent reason. Then stare deep into their eyes.

the two most taboo lines in all media in America are I don't know and I don't care.

The kings of modern thought are dumb.

I knew the mass of men conceal'd Their thoughts, for fear that if reveal'd They would by other men be met With blank indifference.

Charge once more, then, and be dumb!Let the victors, when they come,When the forts of folly fall,Find thy body by the wall.

The day in its hotness,The strife with the palm;The night in her silence,The stars in their calm.

Creep into thy narrow bed,Creep, and let no more be said!

Patricia listened, deliberate and self-contained. Under the subtle terms of the meta-meeting, the pursing of her white lips was almost ostentatious. She placed her attention upon him in the same way that she might place her hand on the head of a small dog. She can't be trusted. No, of course she couldn't. But isn't that thrilling – the presence of a grown-up, a player in the market, the alluring silences of power?

Silence abides. Nobody talks. Nobody can talk. No man knows his own mind. Fear prises the body and soul apart as neatly as a scallop knife – pop! He is no longer in control of himself. Someone or something else commands him: the war itself. He runs in expectation of death – any second, any second now – and then his soul will hang around like so much chaff until a stiff breeze disperses it and he will return to the source.

When we begin to fret and be uneasy, we ought to consider that God hears all our murmurings, though silent, and only the murmurings of the heart.

One way or other, God will give redress to the injured, who in a humble silence commit their cause to him;

When God corrects us or ours for sin, it is our duty to be silent under the correction