Quotes About Silence

Najgore je kad ljudi ?ute, kad se ne objasne, pa svaka sumnja ima pravo na život. I moja i tvoja.

Najteže se govori o onome što te se najviše ti?e.

Your dervish trade is strange. You sell words, which people buy out of fear or habit. He doesn't want to, or doesn't know how to sell words. He can't even sell silence. Or talent. And he doesn't care about success.

Više je dobrih ljudi na svijetu nego zlih. Mnogo više! Samo se zli dalje ?uju i teže osje?aju. Dobri ?ute.

Hiljadu puta se pokajes za ono sto kazes, rijetko za ono sto precutis.

Hiljadu puta se pokaješ za ono što kažeš, rijetko za ono što pre?utiš, znao sam za tu mudrost kad mi nije bila potrebna.

I usually know almost exactly how I feel. The problem is, I just can't tell anyone.

Edmond just lay there smoking and telling me he loved me without saying anything out loud and if there ever was a more perfect day in the history of time it isn't one I've heard about. The

His presence silenced, if only for a few seconds, the crackling anxiety that made my blood grate against my bones and for a little while I'd feel melted and soft.

Lassan azért kezdek rájönni, hogy sokszor azokra érdemes odafigyelni, akik nem járatják folyton a szájukat.

because we were all catching on to the fact that some questions were better not asked. Piper

Espero para oír lo que va a decir sobre su amigo, pero se queda callado. Sigue hablando dentro de su cabeza. Frases enteras le pasan a toda velocidad delante de los ojos. No puedo leerlas.

Everyone," she continues, looking around at all of us, "has something to say. But not everyone can bear to say it. Your job is to find a way.

Part of the beauty of love was that you didn't need to explain it to anyone else. You could refuse to explain. With love, apparently you didn't necessarily feel the need to explain anything at all.

After all, you could use your outside voice and scream your head off, but sometimes it didn't seem as if the screaming was being heard.

Everyone has something to say. But not everyone can bear to say it. Your job is to find a way.

I open the journal now and pick up the pen, but I can't bring myself to write a word.

It was the best night ever. And they hadn't talked about any of it since.

But she couldn't. They never talked about when Marie moved out, or why. It had been a strained time for all of them and there was no need to stir it all up again. That's what was so enraging about it all, about that contractor bringing it up. About Marie having told him things.

And no sound from outside or anywhere. That must be the thing when you have money, I think. You never have to hear anything you don't want to, ever.

A professor once described the brain to me as a great silent vault. A dark theater with nothing. playing on the screen. Just electrical charges bouncing corner to corner, like lightbulbs flashing off and on.

I had no words to give him. No explanation. I didn't understand it, myself. It scared me, but then so do roller coasters, and I ride them anyway, too.

There seemed to be so much to say, but no words adequate to say it.

He was quiet. I said nothing, hoping that maybe, for once, he'd stop pretending he was okay. Then I could, too. That we could both forget the roles that had so long bound us.