Quotes About Conversation

If we would talk more about the Lord and praise Him, we would have less time to talk about ourselves.

In order to pass the time I told him the story of the German who ate the other German whom he'd met on the internet.

We could park the van and walk to town, find cheapest bottle of wine that we could find. And talk about the road behind, how getting lost is not a waste of time.

My kids and I sometimes will just sit in my office and talk about what the world was like 68 million years ago. Amanda, our oldest daughter, wanted to be a paleontologist for a long time.

The greatest use of your words is prayer. Talk to God about EVERYTHING, all the time. Maintain a running conversation.

When considering marriage one should ask oneself this question; 'will I be able to talk with this person into old age?' Everything else is transitory, the most time is spent in conversation.

When you're in a good mood, bring up the past. When you're in a bad mood, stick to the present. And when you're not feeling emotional at all, it's time to talk about the future.

People meeting for the first time suddenly relax if they find they both have cats. And plunge into anecdote.

When I am getting ready to reason with a man, I spend one-third of my time thinking about myself and what I am going to say and two-thirds about him and what he is going to say.

I still go to a salon where a gal does my hair, and I don't know if it's because I'm a celebrity but by the time I leave there, we are eating chicken and talking and screaming.

An 83-year-old male prostitute was arrested. Police say he only charged $20 an hour, but for most of that time, he just talked about his grandkids.

Food first, then talk. Life looks better on a full stomach. People become civilized when they break bread together. Margaret had taught me that.

In the aftermath of death Small talk feels too small, big talk too enormous.

Maybe that was true of marriage everywhere. Between times, in their own living rooms, the men seemed to be resting for the next round of pontificating and so saved their strength by staying silent.

There's a certain kind of conversation you have from time to time at parties in New York about a new book. The word banal sometimes rears its by-now banal head; you say underedited, I say derivative. The conversation goes around and around various literary criticisms, and by the time it moves on one thing is clear: No one read the book; we just read the reviews.

You could argue they'd lost their way, in their choices, their work, their marriage. But the truth was, there wasn't any way. There was just day after day, small stuff, idle conversation, scheduling. And then after a couple of decades it somehow added up to something, for good or for ill or for both.

She had gone to a dinner party in her honor the night before the opening, and everyone had asked, with precisely the same intonation, as though it was a piece of urban Gregorian chant, Where have you been?

Their children, their dogs, and housing prices: the holy trinity of conversation for New Yorkers of a certain sort. For the men, there were also golf courses and wine lists to be discussed; for the women, dermatologists.

I possess the faculty of enjoying the company of those I - of my friends as well in silence as in conversation.

I hate talking where there is no exchange of ideas or sentiments, and no good given or received

I hate talking when there is no exchange of ideas or sentiments, and no good given or received

But that word refuge disturbed me.  Had their unkindness then really driven her to seek for peace in solitude? 'Why have they left you alone?' I asked. 'It is I who have left them,' was the smiling rejoinder.  'I was wearied to death with small talk—nothing wears me out like that.  I cannot imagine how they can go on as they do.' I could not help smiling at the serious depth of her wonderment.

she sat opposite, watching me (as I thought) and endeavouring to sustain something like a conversation — consisting chiefly of a succession of commonplace remarks, expressed with frigid formality: but this might be more my fault than hers, for I really could not converse.

Sullen silence was taken for rapt attention, and gave him greater room to talk; sharp answers were received as smart sallies of girlish vivacity, that only required an indulgent rebuke; and flat contradictions were but as oil to the flames, calling forth new strains of argument to support his dogmas, and bringing down upon me endless floods of reasoning to overwhelm me with conviction.