Quotes About Conversation

You can give words, but you can't take them. And when words are given and received, that is when they are shared. We remember what that was like. Words so real they were almost tangible. There are conversations you remember, for certain. But more than that, there is the sensation of conversation. You will remember that, even when the precise words begin to blur.

I kiss her and she finds the light switch and turns it off, and we're just lit in Pepsi-can colors and it's like we've finally found this other kind of conversation, this conversation in gestures and pulls and pushes and breaths and grasps and teases and glimmers and rubs and expectation.

barfly n. You have the ability to talk to anyone which is an ability I do not share.

gothblood4567: 'sup? finalwill: i'm working. gothblood4567 on what? finalwill: my suicide note. i can't figure out how to end it. gothblood4567: lol

They should be going to sleep, but good company is the enemy of sleep.

No funny stuff in here tonight, you understand?" Dash said, "I assure you I could not contemplate any of your so-called funny stuff seeing as how I have no idea why I'm even here." Mark scoffed. "You bookish little pervert." "Thank you, sir!" Dash said brightly.

me: just don't ask about his forty-three ex-boyfriends, okay? or ask him about why he's carrying around an axe. mom:... me: i'm kidding about the axe part.

So what's your story?" Ryan asks. Avery looks up at him, hand still in the water. "My story?" "Yeah. Everybody has at least one.

I thought: But isn't this a dance? Isn't all of this a dance? Isn't that what we do with words? Isn't that what we do when we talk, when we spar, when we make plans or leave it to chance? Some of it's choreographed. Some of the steps have been done for ages. And the rest—the rest is spontaneous. The rest has to be decided on the floor, in the moment, before the music ends.

i wonder what they could possible have to say to each other. they're all so boring and they're all trying to make up for it by talking louder.

I wasn't as good at semi-normal conversation as I was at ones that were written down, or adrenalized in a surreal moment.

Danny is amazed that he feels so comfortable. He is amazed that while there are some people you can see every day and not say a word to, there are other people whom you can see once a year-or once a decade, or once a life-and say anything.

Conversation is not his strong suit. In fact, I'm not sure it's a suit he owns.

I was still scared by every gap in our conversation, fearing that this was it, the point where we had nothing left to say.

cadence , n . I have never lived anywhere but New York or New England, but there are times when I'm talking to you and I hit a Southern vowel, or a word gets caught in a Suthern truncation, and I know it's because I'm swimming in your cadences, that you penetrate my very language.

they're all so boring and they're all trying to make up for it by talking louder.

It's that guy again, you'd say. Then: He's cute, you know. No, I don't know. And you don't need to tell me.

Since Chuck's a sporting guy, I think it's only fair that I keep score of his conversation.

They should be going to sleep, but good company is the enemy of sleep. We remember this feeling so acutely - the desire to linger away the hours with someone else, talking or holding or even just watching a movie. In those moment, the clock seems arbitrary, since you are setting your understanding of time to another, more personal measure.

Elijah, as always, is being unusually kind. While he himself is not lonely, he doesn't mind talking to lonely people. He is the Mother Teresa of banter.

This, I've discovered, is the best way to waste time, because it isn't really wasted -- surrounded by friends, talking crap and sometimes talking for real, with snacks around and something on a screen.

Tiny is trying his darnedest to start a musical conversation with Phil, but at first, Phil's not into it. Luckily, Tiny's persistent—like Angel in Rent, but without the cross-dressing and the specter of AIDS hovering over everything.

i would give anything to not have to spend the next twenty minutes sitting across from her, because she doesn't believe in letting silence go. no, she has to fill it up with talk. i want to tell her that's what the voices in your head are for, to get you through all the silent parts, but she doesn't want to be with her thoughts unless she's saying them out loud.

This is not good," I told the trees. Don't fight it. Acknowledge it. Talk to yourself. "Already covered," I said. "Unless you have something to add?" "No," I replied. "Do go on.