Best 4283 quotes in «talking quotes» category

I should think a dead language would be rather boring, socially speaking.

Isn't it weird that everything that's coming out of my mouth is going directly into the past?

Issues or fears of confrontation tend to showcase unhealthy and unprofessional communication. If you are trusting someone to tell you all the good, bad and ugly, but they only give you the good out of their fears and confrontational issues… the bad and the ugly can grow worse and worse quickly.

I start to worry that I should be saying something. Most of the time I think I could be perfectly content without saying a single word, but no one else seems to function that way. There is so much talking in the world, and so much expectation to talk, even if you do not feel like talking. I find it overwhelming.

I talk to children like adults and to adults like children.

I tend to avoid people who always have something to say … and those who expect me to always have something to say.

It's far more important why is being said, than what.

It's been my experience that only children never learn when to keep their fucking traps shut. An older brother would have beat that out of you.

It's easier to get over a thing" Scobie said, "if you talk about it

I used to be afraid about what people might say or think after reading what I had written. I am not afraid anymore, because when I write, I am not trying to prove anything to anyone, I am just expressing myself and my opinions. It’s ok if my opinions are different from those of the reader, each of us can have his own opinions. So writing is like talking, if you are afraid of writing, you may end up being afraid of talking

It was always this way: The more people talked, the more they obscured. You didn't need to argue for the truth. You could see it.

I've been talking to myself a lot lately. I don't know what that's about, but my mother was the same way. She hated to make small talk with other people, but get her into a conversation with herself and she was quite the raconteur. She would tell herself a joke and clap her hands together as she let out a laugh; she would murmur to the plants as she watered them, and offer encouragement to the food as she cooked it. Sometimes I would walk into a room and surprise her as she was regaling herself with some delightful story, and I remember how the sound would dry up in her mouth. She stood there, frozen in the headlights of my teenage scorn.

I was wondering if I could talk to you?” I fiddled with one of the drawstrings of my hoodie [...] “Talk?” He stared up at me with a blank expression. I hated blank expressions, because people only used them when they didn’t want to show what they were really feeling. And I really sucked at trying to figure out what people were feeling. “Yeah,” I said, rather condescendingly. “You know, that thing you do where you open your mouth and words come out?

I was a talking lover, which most women hate.

I was stressed and scared and I had to hurry to be someone, become something, do something. I was running and talking and cursed myself when I wasted my time on things that wouldn’t get me anywhere. It was work and it was money and I was never where I was, always somewhere else in my head far, far away.

Marion does not talk much. But when she does talk she swears a lot more. There is a joy she takes in swearing which I suspect she inherited from her aunt Grace. She likes the word 'motherfucker' in particular (not that this particular one was around in her aunt's day). Everything is a motherfucker. For instance, the TV is a motherfucker. (There is 'never anything on the motherfucker'.) Her shoes are motherfuckers. The American president is a motherfucker. Weaving yarn through a loom is a motherfucker. Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy is a motherfucker.

Listen should be on 60-70% and talking or speaking on from 40 up to 30%.

Look lak we done run our conversation from grass roots tuh pine trees.

Make a concise statement clearly and you should only need to say it once.

Maybe the difference between speech and music isn't all that great. We infer a lot from the tone of someone's voice, so imagine that aspect of speech pushed just a little further. The weird cadences of a Valley girl, for instance, might be viewed as a species of singing. The malls of Sherman Oaks are a setting for a kind of massed choir.

Never let it be said that I could not talk my way out of any trouble that I could not punch.

Mrs. Dadds, who was telling a story about her chilblains, brought her narrative to a more or less satisfactory conclusion and paused to regain her breath.

Most of the important things in life I learned online, at work, from experience, or by talking to people. A real education barely costs anything but time and effort and sometimes heartache.

Most people talk too much, and what they do say is often just noise or irrelevant gibberish designed to keep themselves entertained

No, I mean really listen. Here's a story, and you don't have to visit many houses to find it. One person is talking, the other one is not really listening. someone can look like they are but they're actually thinking about something they want to say, or their minds are just wandering. Or they're looking at that little box people hold in their hands these days. And people get discouraged, so they quit trying. And the very quiet people, you may have noticed, are often the sad people.

Nobody seems to know which came first; egg or chicken – except of course for agents of the Time Saving Agency – who can find out anything about, well – anything. The only trouble is, they aren’t talking – however, you can take it from me – they know. The answer to these and other puzzles are kept safe and secure behind fire-walls and thick security doors secured with, er – time-locks, where one could possibly find answers to many other troubling questions, and not all of them necessarily relating to chickens.

No. Some you put to the bullet. Some to the tongue. Reckon we’ll have to see, yet, which way this is going to turn.

No one is more beautiful to me than a person who's easy to talk to.

Not everyone talks in words.

Not everyone who talks less or keeps quiet whenever they are with or around you does that because they find you interesting or knowledgeable; some people do that because they find you boring or ignorant.

One thing I never forgot from my reading--in most cases, misunderstandings were a result of not talking about things. So, early on, I decided the best way to keep matters straight was to talk it out.

Nowadays, you need a good excuse to go and to start talking to someone, as they say it... "You Found a stranger, now you are in real danger.

Now we're not talking. I haven't seen him since. But I know when he comes back, we won't talk. Or if we do, we'll talk very, very politely and coldly--which is the same as not talking.

Oh stupid, silly, awkward me; Will I never, ever see? People babble, speak, and talk; All I can do is stand and gawk!

Once again, it seemed, I was discovering the truth of the rule, a rule I'd never explicitly formulated to myself, but whose veracity I'd quite often sensed in a vague sort of way, which was that the chances of seeing an idea through to completion are inversely proportional to the time you've spent talking about it beforehand.

Nothing listens as well as a blank page.

People say talking about it makes it better. Sometimes talking about it makes it worse.

People don't talk like this, theytalklikethis. Syllables, words, sentences run together like a watercolor left in the rain. To understand what anyone is saying to us we must separate these noises into words and the words into sentences so that we might in our turn issue a stream of mixed sounds in response. If what we say is suitably apt and amusing, the listener will show his delight by emitting a series of uncontrolled high-pitched noises, accompanied by sharp intakes of breath of the sort normally associated with a seizure or heart failure. And by these means we converse. Talking, when you think about it, is a very strange business indeed.

People talk a lot but they rarely say anything.

People shouldn't just talk about you, they should tell your tales.

People who talk too much are tiresome, especially those who are not informative, thought-provoking, or funny.

POLISH your MIND to reflect the shimmering BEAUTY of your WORDS and ACTIONS.

She hardly ever began conversations with strangers just to talk. It was not a matter of shyness. For her, a conversation had a straightforward function. How do I get to the pharmacy? or How much does the hotel room cost? Conversation also had a professional function. [...] When she worked as a researcher [...], she had never minded having a long conversation if it was to ferret out facts. On the other hand, she disliked personal discussions, which always led to snooping around in areas she considered private.

Quiet moments bring you closer to God. It's your silent time within your own private sanctuary. People have so many things to talk about, worry about, think about, without giving themselves peace within. Quiet moments give you access to areas of your brain which allows you to function proficiently.

Science... internet... and women have one in common all end up as biatch.... So it's very bitchy, when they don't stop talking.

Semua makhluk hidup setiap harinya hidup seperti memutar roda keberuntungan.

She could talk. If she was a sphinx she could have talked, if she was a stone she could have talked. I wondered when she'd get tired and leave. Even after I stopped listening it was like being battered with tiny pingpong balls.

She paused for half a beat to catch her breath and possibly to scoop up another thousand words to jam into my ear.

Sometimes I think that wisdoms slip from my mind like drool from the lips of an idiot... Where's all this stuff coming from? Is it any good? Any good in, you know, the wisdom sense? Who am I to spout this stuff anyway? Well, here's the thing. You too can find yourself shedding wisdom like cat hair if you only allow yourself the liberty of introspection. Think about what you alone know that no one else does. That one neat wonderful profound insight. It is fully yours. No one else on this planet of about six billion people understands it like you do. Now, see if you can share it with someone. Bestow it, a gift of yourself. Wisdom is like gossip. Except it's the good kind.

She tells me that she would not make for a good conversation. Yet every time that she talks, I don't want her to ever stop!