Best 369 quotes in «silent quotes» category

At last evil and corruption take over,” Mearth laughed icily, her eyes filled with a wild glow. “Someday you’ll become so unstable that you’ll kill anyone you’ve ever cared about in your life, and when that happens I only hope that you leave any outsider witnesses alone as you fade out of the world.” Alecto froze for a moment, completely silent, setting the camera down on the fence and thinking things over. Mandy could see him clearly now that he was on the video, but he looked obscure. “What’s on your corrupted mind, pretty little Sydney Tar Ponds?” Mearth asked, dropping the wire cutters and stepping closer to him. “I hate you,” he answered icily. “Oh, no you don’t, you just think you hate me,” Mearth insisted, her voice kind, caring, almost loving. “You didn’t mean to try and kill me, you’ve been worn-out by life, you’ve been alive a very long time, your mind is a storm and your usual insight is gone.” Mandy was inclined to agree with Mearth; he looked like a storm, his eyes had dark shadows under them, he was limping when he walked, he was shivering and coughing and his head was leaning to one side slightly. Nonetheless, he still seemed to be able to reason, because when he noticed Mearth’s falsely cheerful words he glared at her hatefully, smoke trailing from his cigarette. “I’m going to tell Cheryl what you’ve done, all those times you tried to kill me, I’ll tell her and she’ll know what you did,” he threatened. “No Sydney Tar Ponds, you won’t,” Mearth replied softly, “because if you tell her, I’ll kill her and you’ll have a few more super 8 home videos to add to the collection of celluloid memories.” “…You wouldn’t,” Alecto exclaimed. “If you really do love her, if you really care about her and she’s your friend, you’ll stay silent,” Mearth told him. “You think what I’m doing is cruel, sadistic, but it isn’t… you aren’t even a real person, you don’t understand.” Alecto said nothing back to her. The television screen faded to black and Mandy just sat there in the darkness, her expression blank.

Being quiet is the loudest remark.

Close your eyes. Hear the silent snow. Listen to your soul speak.

Better to say nothing at all, rather than something you'll regret.

Clever wives are mostly silent ,alert and pay equal attention to limiting the kind and degree of emotions of family which creates and destroy HOMES.

Being skilled in Catsism is like being a ninja only deadlier and not so silent. The only bad thing is the sickening grammar you have to use.

Betsy did not answer. She was a talker, her family always said, but sometimes when she most wanted to talk she couldn't say a word.

Death is like a Black Hole. Biology is silent in a grave.

Death is like a Black Hole. Physics is silent in a grave.

Even if just once, the inner intent spoils towards someone, as in ‘I will put him in his place’, it is a statement made with God as your witness, so how can it go to waste? There is no problem if the inner intent does not spoil. Everything will become silent. Everything will stop.

Every spoken word carries great risk. Therefore, it is better to remain silent if one does not know how to talk. Talking about religion carries religious risks, talking about worldly matters, carries worldly risks. The worldly risk will go away, but religious risk is very heavy; it creates grave obstacles in regards to religion.

Every man has at least one nightmare he'd like to keep to himself.

For a silent person, your eyes are very talkative.

He’s like an old clock the won’t tell time but won’t stop neither with the hands bend out of shape and the face bare of numbers and the alarm rusted silent, an old worthless clock that keeps ticking and cuckooing without meaning nothing.

For some soldiers, there is a greater war going on behind the gun's shadow of family and friends, than in front of the gun pointing at strange enemies.

From her thighs, she gives you life And how you treat she who gives you life Shows how much you value the life given to you by the Creator. And from seed to dust There is ONE soul above all others -- That you must always show patience, respect, and trust And this woman is your mother. And when your soul departs your body And your deeds are weighed against the feather There is only one soul who can save yours And this woman is your mother. And when the heart of the universe Asks her hair and mind, Whether you were gentle and kind to her Her heart will be forced to remain silent And her hair will speak freely as a separate entity, Very much like the seaweed in the sea -- It will reveal all that it has heard and seen. This woman whose heart has seen yours, First before anybody else in the world, And whose womb had opened the door For your eyes to experience light and more -- Is your very own MOTHER. So, no matter whether your mother has been cruel, Manipulative, abusive, mentally sick, or simply childish How you treat her is the ultimate test. If she misguides you, forgive her and show her the right way With simple wisdom, gentleness, and kindness. And always remember, That the queen in the Creator's kingdom, Who sits on the throne of all existence, Is exactly the same as in yours. And her name is, THE DIVINE MOTHER.

Good people who are always silent for bad people to gain freedom and do their worsts are the most dangerous wastes the world ever has.

He who is silent toward violence diminishes the offerings.

Half of me is filled with bursting words and half of me is painfully shy. I crave solitude yet also crave people. I want to pour life and love into everything yet also nurture my self-care and go gently. I want to live within the rush of primal, intuitive decision, yet also wish to sit and contemplate. This is the messiness of life - that we all carry multitudes, so must sit with the shifts. We are complicated creatures, and ultimately, the balance comes from this understanding. Be water. Flowing, flexible and soft. Subtly powerful and open. Wild and serene. Able to accept all changes, yet still led by the pull of steady tides. It is enough.

I felt a warm hand touch my forehead. And then my cheek. I held my act steady though Akinli’s touch made me feel more than awake. “Where in the world did you come from, you beautiful, silent girl?” he whispered.

how can i ever breathe normally again after having been cradled by the kind of sorrow so silent, that it nourishes after having been swept by the kind of joy so absolute, that it wounds.

I don't get mad. I get silent.

I feed Volnay, who eats in her unusual way, delicately removing one piece of kibble at a time from her bowl, placing it on the little rug that serves as her dining room, and then eating it before going back in for a second piece of kibble. It takes her the better part of thirty minutes to finish her bowl. I'm sure if she had thumbs, she'd be patting her chin with a linen napkin after every morsel. When she finishes, she hits the water bowl. Silently. No one can figure out how she drinks, she sort of purses her lips and sucks, none of that slurping and splashing that accompany most dogs' drinking. She is a stealth drinker. When she finishes, she heads to her little bed in the corner of the kitchen to groom her fur a bit. Lovely girl.

How can we pick and choose which parts of the Bible to follow? One thing is God’s will and another is just cultural differences? What if it’s all cultural? What if homosexuality or saving yourself for marriage is as outdated as women staying silent in church or Leviticus forbidding tattoos?

If you think everybody hates you, then your ignorance is beyond the limit, because there's a loving heart somewhere longing to see your face.

If Jarod Kintz was a cat, he'd stalk people silently and deadly. Right now, all he does is bark at them for no good reason, like all the good people do.

If talk is cheap, then being silent is expensive. And many people it seems, can't afford to buy into it.

If we can't have world peace, I'll settle for a quiet room.

If you are walking in silence without disturbing the silence then you really love the silence!

If you want True love. Love With Who Love You

If you're silent for a long time, people just arrive in your mind.

I lie silently in bed With pleasant pillow under head— Exploring truths of a long lost eve— Weaving with care what to, and not to, believe.

I hate him.” She repeats it louder. “I hate him!” She shouts it at the sky, even though it’s hard to shout lying down: “I! Hate! Luke! Willis!” Rachel asks, “But what did he do?” Hallelujah can hear Jonah waiting for her answer. She knows he’s waiting because he’s stopped making fire-building noises. He’s silent. Completely. She takes a deep breath. “He told a lie about me. Actually, a lot of lies. And people believed him. The grown-ups, because he’s the preacher’s son and he’d never do something bad. And everyone our age—because he’s popular and you don’t question the popular guy, because if you do, you’ll stop being popular yourself. Or you’ll never get the chance. And because of what he said, my parents stopped trusting me. I lost friends. I was just this loser who—” She breaks off. Now she’s talking to Jonah. Even though he’s behind her and she can’t see him. “It doesn’t matter what you saw that night, or what he told you happened. Luke treated me like I was nothing, and you let him do it.” Jonah doesn’t answer. “But that’s not what makes me the maddest,” Hallelujah continues, pushing up to sit. “What makes me the maddest is that I let it happen too. I didn’t stand up for myself. And when someone did tell me to stand up for myself, I got so mad—” Sarah. She feels the emotion of their argument wash over her, fresh. “I pushed her away. I told her she didn’t understand anything. But she was right. I became this girl who wouldn’t stand up for herself. The quiet girl. The nothing girl. I just wanted it all to stop, but from the outside, without me having to make it stop. And I wanted to get away, but I figured, hey, college will get here eventually and then I’ll be away, I just have to get there, and all the while I’m miserable, and I’m letting you guys make me miserable, letting you make me think I’m supposed to be miserable, that I’m supposed to be quiet, and I’m shutting people out, people who maybe actually care, and I hate myself for it.” An abrupt stop. The train of thought hits a wall. She’s never said that before. Never thought it before. Not consciously. But she knows, deeper than she’s ever known anything, that it’s true. Hallelujah has spent six months hating herself for being weak and silent and for letting bad things happen and for not fighting.

I'll be as silent as the grave.

Infatuated painted clouds, enamored of our silky bed-lagoon, reflect with silent tremors your sweetest of the kisses...whispers...then lightly consume its shining sunset skin with loving smiles greeting the lacy starry night ahead...making our senses dance so softly stepping on to the adorn petals of the place no one else knows...

I meet people and they enforce me their culture and then I choose to fly away and I meet other people and these people force me their religion and I wanna fly away. I meet other people, these people are silent, we begin to sing the song of the ocean and then we fly away together ~

It's better to be silent than to be a fool.

I noticed that volcanoes, earthquakes and floods, though are not good events, they are better than the silence of good people when bad people take the podium. The latter are to an extent uncontrollable, but the former can be stopped.

It often seems as though the silent, humble servant is secretly wiser and more discerning than the haughty master; yet through dutiful (and sometimes insecure) surrender he continues to serve and carry out petty orders in loyal acquiescence.

In your anger, zip your lips!

It finally was entirely silent and I inhaled and breathed its magical peace...

Make no mistake about it. We are born blind, deaf, and mute. It is neither these eyes that give us sight, nor these ears that give us sound. It is not even these lips that give us voice. It is only love. Love makes us seek beauty and truth. Love yearns to connect. To experience. To understand. So close your eyes at once. Don’t utter a word. Perk up your ears and listen to that silent sound inside you where all this is found.

It was as though her tongue were a heavy weight in her mouth, and now her heart was even heavier for having kept silent.

i will forever be colliding with a billion unnamed undiscovered stars, each of us on our own orbital paths.

Nothing complements a fast mind better than a slow tongue. And nothing aggravates a slow mind better than a fast tongue.

My soul has always been here, waiting silently for that fleeting touch, knowing home resides within our timeless desire...

No art is silent! Because art is an original idea and every original idea speaks, every interesting thought screams, every art talks, every art screams! No art is silent! If it is silent, then it is not an art!

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.

Pain whispers through silent words entombed in scars shyly palpable in fleeting glimpses briefly allowed

One minute with a silent spirit of self-knowledge is enough to align you to put smiles on the face of the boring world. The world needs you! Yes it does!