Quotes About Conversation

What would you like to drink? You do drink, don't you? -Oh, sure! I drink like a fish!

The problem with communication is the illusion that is has occurred.

My father wasn't inclined to talk much about his past, and when he did—when I pressed him for details and he began to reminisce about his youth—he became so dull and long-winded that I soon regretted ever asking him anything.

The other night I ate at a real nice family restaurant. Every table had an argument going.

I do," he remembers the matronly lady saying. "You haven't missed much. She's such a greedy cunt." Wilson says he had a hard time keeping himself from spitting the soup out on the table. When he recovered, he said in his most courtly manner, "Baroness, I think you and I are going to have a lovely evening.

Gossip is a sort of smoke that comes from the dirty tobacco-pipes of those who diffuse it; it proves nothing but the bad taste of the smoker.

Comprehensive talkers are apt to be tiresome when we are not athirst for information; but, to be quite fair, we must admit that superior reticence is a good deal due to lack of matter. Speech is often barren, but silence also does not necessarily brood over a full nest. Your still fowl, blinking at you without remark, may all the while be sitting on one addled nest-egg; and, when it takes to cackling, will have nothing to announce but that addled delusion.

I had a son in 1976. When I went to Europe, I met an Italian and we became friends. We would talk about what we would tell our families to do if the balloon went up. The conversation -- strange and perhaps pathological as it was -- bound us together. It was not war, it was not peace, but it was a place in the mind where the preparation for war and the anxiety that it generated created strange forms, such as plans for the movement of children in order to avoid a nuclear holocaust.

How is it going with your boyfriend?;););) - text from Grandma Frida

Look what the cat dragged in." He was playing to the audience. Never good. "Is he talking to me or you?" Curran asked. His voice was deceptively light. "I don't know," I said. "But I'm sure he'll get around to telling us.

It's truly rare to find a man who enjoys the sound of his own voice as much as you do.

Cat got your tongue, Nevada?

It was just Gaston's luck that Orro's prized duck, which he had worked on for three days, had finished cooking. Gaston cut off another piece, speared a sliver of potato dusted with herbs, and chewed with obvious pleasure. "Should we leave you two alone?" Sean asked.

I have three sisters," Jim reminded me. "I know what nothing means." "What does it mean, Mr. Female Expert?" "It means you're upset about something, it's been bothering you, but you don't want to bring it up because you're not sure you're up for the conversation that might follow. Sometimes it also means I am supposed to magically guess why you are upset.

Angel, while diplomatic, suffered from an eloquent man's malady—faced with silence, he felt compelled to fill it, even when it was in his best interests to keep his mouth shut.

You always come up with such flattering metaphors. The last time we had one of our little talks, you compared me to a cactus.

A vivid image of a man with a pencil through his left eye orbit flashed before me, complete with bloody smudges of my fingerprints on the yellow shaft of the pencil. Thank you, dear memory, for once again attempting to sabotage my conversation.

I feel like we've had a real breakthrough here, Landon," Hugh said. "This is the most honest conversation we've ever had.

Rogan lifted his cell to his ear and said quietly, "Margaret? Look into putting pressure sensors into our dryer vents . . . Yes. Dryer vents." Augustine was typing something on his phone, his face unreadable.

La sua vita trascorreva in una continua alternanza tra il desiderio di solitudine e quello di compagnia. «Nessuno come me avrà sprecato tante energie nella conversazione più futile, e nessuno avrà tanto detestato la gente»

All the time when I speak to you, even now, I'm saying not precisely what I think, but what will impress you and make you respond. That's so even between us - and how much more it's so where there are stronger motives for deception. In fact, one's so used to this one hardly sees it. The whole language is a machine for making falsehoods.

I hate solitude, but I am afraid of intimacy. The substance of my life is a private conversation with myself which to turn into a dialogue would be equivalent to self-destruction.

He is endowed with an Irish flow of words, and when thoroughly drunk is difficult to interrupt.

What larks we had, said James. When? When we were young. I could not recall any larks I had had with James. I poured out the wine and we sat in silence.