Quotes About Unspoken

Just hearing their names pushes and pulls at you in a hundred ways, and when you try to define those hundred ways, describe them even to yourself, words are useless. If you had a lifetime to talk, there would still be things left unsaid.

Just because a person isn't talking about something doesn't mean it's not on their mind. Often, in fact, it's why they won't speak of it.

Some things you don't have to tell. Some things, between sisters, are understood.

As long as I didn't say it aloud, it wasn't real

This was our common ground, the secret we shared but never spoke aloud.

what isn't said can hurt the most.

I looked at the people playing, walking, loafing, hurrying, or sauntering across the little park in front of us. How many terrible stories were there, just there in front of me, never to be spoken?

But I am not going to give every detail. Some things lose their fragrance when opened to the air, and there are stirrings of the soul which cannot be put into words without destroying their delicacy.

Life is classified. There is always so much that goes unsaid.

En las conversaciones con mis hijas oigo palabras o frases no pronunciadas. Ellas a veces se enojan, me dicen mamá, yo no lo he dicho, lo estás diciendo tú, te lo has inventado. Pero no invento nada, me basta con escuchar, lo no dicho es más elocuente que lo dicho.

In conversations with my daughters I hear omitted words or phrases. Sometimes they get mad, they say Mama, I never said that, you're saying it, you invented it. But I invent nothing; you just have to listen—the unspoken says more than the spoken.

Non era riuscito a stare zitto, l'amicizia tra maschi ha i suoi patti non scritti ma solidi, non come quella tra femmine.

Mas eu não invento nada, só escuto, o não dito fala mais do que o dito.

I guess I've spent my life listening to what wasn't being said.

A story is a life that didn't happen, and a life is a story that didn't get told.

I was backing into the picture I wanted to see by noticing what wasn't in it. It was like trying to understand a photography by studying the negative. I found myself focusing not on what people remembered, focused on, and said, but on what they forgot, disregarded, and did not say. I was backing into the deep story, as I am calling it, and noticing what, in human consciousness, it crowded out.

Our thoughts were so awesome to us, that no one could speak a word, not even 'Goodbye.' We hugged and clasped and wept silently.

It's less the words they say than those they leave unsaid that split old friends apart.

There are thoughts we must not think.

Not being able to speak is not the same as not having anything to say.

We said nothing for some time but we couldn't have been more eloquent.

I'm not used to girls, or familiar with their customs. I feel awkward around them, I don't know what to say. I know the unspoken rules of boys, but with girls I sense that I am always on the verge of some unforeseen, calamitous blunder.

The house, and all the objects in it, crackled with static electricity; undertows washed through it, the air was heavy with things that were known but not spoken. Like a hollow log, a drum, a church, it was amplified, so that conversations whispered in it sixty years ago can be half-heard today.

there's often more in silences than in what is actually said – in the lips pressed together, the head turned away, the quick sideways glance. The shoulders drawn up as if carrying a heavy weight.