Quotes About Silence

But imagine there's this thing that always sits there in the room with you. And everyone knows it's there and no one will ever say a single goddamn word about it until it becomes like an extra person living in your house that you have to make room for. And if you bring it up, they pretend they don't know what you're talking about.

Too much talking," I say. "Not enough running.

I don't know how much time passes with us just lying there, just feeling that the other is really there, really true, really alive, feeling the safety of him, his weight against mine, the roughness of his fingers touching my face, his warmth and his smell and the dustiness of his clothes, and we barely speak...

She looks at me. She does. She.

Flakes of white fall thru the trees and onto the road, catching on our clothes and hair. It's a silent fall and it's weird how it makes everything else seem quiet, too, like it's trying to tell you a secret, a terrible, terrible secret.

And I look at her sitting there and she looks across the river and we wait as the dawn fully arrives, each of us knowing. Each of us knowing the other.

What else is there to say?Everything and nothing. You can't say everything, so you don't say nothing.

There's her silence, loud as a roar, pulling at me like the greatest sadness ever, like I want to take it and press myself into it and just disappear forever down into nothing. What a relief that would feel like right now. What a blessed relief.

The forest was white in the snowfall, but still seemed to hold more secrets than she had ever thought possible.

The house was quiet when he got inside. Why wouldn't it be? He was alone.

That's another thing about Noise. Everything that's ever happened to you just keeps right on talking, for ever and ever.

Being this close to her silence is like my heart breaking all over the place. I can feel it, like it's pulling me down into a bottomless pit, like it's calling for me to just fall and fall and fall.

Jared exhales a long, long time. "Dude." I just swallow. It's loud in the silence. "I think it's starting again." "It's probably just the pressure of everything," Jared offers. "Finals, your massively unrequited love for Henna–" "Don't say unrequited." ". . . your massively invisible love for Henna . . ." I hit him on the arm. It's friendly. More silence.

I do it all the time now, reaching for the silence, making the thoughts and memories go away, and most of the time it works on the outside, too.

Say you were standing on a hilltop with someone who had no Noise. Would it be like you were alone there? How would you share it? Would you want to? I mean, here we are, the girl and I, heading outta danger and into the unknown and there's no Noise overlapping us, nothing to tell us what the other's thinking. Is that how it's sposed to be?

What happened in the nightmare was something no one else ever needed to know. Conor

The first thing you find out when yer dog learns to talk is that dogs don't got nothing much to say. About anything.

We don't say nothing more. What else is there to say? Everything and nothing. You can't say everything, so you don't say nothing.

Just because my thoughts and feelings don't spill out into the world in a shout that never stops doesn't mean I don't have them.

the first thing you find out when dog learns to talk is that dogs don't got nothing much to say about anything

But what good is being smart when you speak words and no one hears the ones you mean?

even the silence, if you listened, meant something.

Half of seeming clever is keeping your mouth shut at the right times.

That is how heavy a secret can become. It can make blood flow easier than ink.