Best 3011 quotes in «silence quotes» category

More silence; children's silence, so desperately desired by adults yet eerie when it finally occurs.

Most of the conversations we are ever likely to have with people are the things we do not and cannot say

Most of us are so used to living amidst the noise of modern life that we have forgotten the value of silence. Imagine that you switch off all the fans and ACs at your home. You can now hear the slightest sound of the horn from a vehicle plying on the road, or a conversation between people or the crying of a child in your neighbourhood. When it is night and the silence is deep, you can hear the ticking of your clock. When the silence is even deeper, you can even hear the vibrations of the universe and the beating of your own heart.

Most often, their association was one of silence, but that is a thing of uncommon worth when partaken of in the ease of another.

Most times, the best thing people deserve from us is our silence.speak through silence and it will be more powerful than harsh words

most times the best things people deserve from us is our silence.Speak through silence and it will be more powerful than harsh words

Move thy tongue, For silence is a sign of discontent.

Muhammad adhered meticulously to the charter he forged for Medina, which - grounded as it was in the Quranic injunction, "Let there be no compulsion in religion" (2:256) - is arguably the first mandate for religious tolerance in human history.

Mum was pregnant, then there was Sharron. [...] I wanted to keep him away from her - but for the wrong reasons. In my head he was mine, he was my special person but, of course, as I was getting older, his interest in me was waning anyway. I don't know whether it was because he had lost interest in me, or because the abuse elsewhere was so horrific, particularly without him in my life to make things seem better but, whatever the reason, I soon moved from wanted him to leave Sharron alone for my sake, to wanting him to leave her alone for the right reasons. She was tiny, just a toddler, and the thought of him touching her or abusing her horrified me. I started trying to attract his attention whenever he looked at her. I'd dance, I'd sing, I'd sit on his lap. I'd do a hundred things that were completely out of character - anything, anything to avoid seeing that look in his eye when he glanced at the baby. I knew that he was planing to do to her what he had done to me. I tried to get in the way, I tried to get him to play with me, but once Sharron was about three, the penny finally dropped. I had always thought he wasn't in the same category as the others; they weren't nice, and he always was. But as she began to replace me, it made me face up to things. What Uncle Andrew did wasn't right. [...] Even though I loved my uncle, and craved his attention, the thought of him coming into my bed was starting to repulse me. sharron slept in my bed, too, by then, and I wanted that to continue because I wanted to protect her. Of course, there were plenty of times when I wasn't there. I was still being taken away to be abused. I was at school; Sharon was often left unprotected. Something must have been happening because she started wetting the bed almost every night. This was a sign that even I couldn't turn away from. Sharon was being abused. I was sure of it. But I wouldn't stand for it, not for much longer. p209-2010

Much of life must go by without comment.

Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it: without the alternation of sound and silence there would be no rhythm.

my dear, I have nothing to say. my heart burns like the evening sky.

My eyes always keep searching, for something inexpressible, above the far away sky. I long to get lost, inside the evening-twilight. Silence always tickles me — in a strange way; I meet “me” in the time between sunset and darkness.

...my father, [was] a mid-level phonecompany manager who treated my mother at best like an incompetent employee. At worst? He never beat her, but his pure, inarticulate fury would fill the house for days, weeks, at a time, making the air humid, hard to breathe, my father stalking around with his lower jaw jutting out, giving him the look of a wounded, vengeful boxer, grinding his teeth so loud you could hear it across the room ... I'm sure he told himself: 'I never hit her'. I'm sure because of this technicality he never saw himself as an abuser. But he turned our family life into an endless road trip with bad directions and a rage-clenched driver, a vacation that never got a chance to be fun.

My lone silence has the quality of marshmallows, padded with sugary dough, but other people's silence is punctured with pointy, jagged blades.

My silence doesn't mean I don't know what goes around me, but what goes around me don't deserve my words.

Nature finds its peace in silence, forgiveness, and universal love.

My truth asked people to understand and to learn about depths of pain they had previously walked past…. I had kept my silence for a reason. - from Without a Voice by Chris Pepple

Never listen to destructive criticism - it's only meant to silence you.

Night’s visions of tranquility slowly rolled above me by the groovy silken silence,that prevailed wisdom and by my casement,the starry beams rave,and thoughts start to sketch Nyx’s beauty, as I admired.

Never underestimate the effect of well-timed silence.

Never underestimate wisdom in silence, proof isn't always a mouthful of words.

No amount of words, No haiku, poem, or novel, Can tell of our love

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!

New Rome will be destroyed By the attacks of new vandals. God always remains silent.

Next time you stumble upon a silent person, listen up

No multitude of words could have been more significant than those moments of silence, or more pregnant with the first-felt throbbings of desire.

Non servirò ciò in cui non credo più, si chiami questo la casa, la patria o la Chiesa: e tenterò di esprimere me stesso in un qualunque modo di vita o di arte quanto più potrò liberamente e integralmente, adoperando per difendermi le sole armi che mi concedo di usare: il silenzio, l'esilio e l'astuzia.

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

No one is ever alone and silence does not equate defeat.

Normal people live distracted, rarely fully present. Weird people silence the distractions and remain fully in the moment.

No sound is more ominous than the silence of a patient man.

Not everyone is well-equipped to share your burden, And it's OK . . . Not everyone is receptive enough to bask in your light, And it's OK . . . Not everyone is psychic enough to understand your silence, And it's OK . . . Not everyone is crazy enough to associate with your passion, And it's OK . . . Not everyone is blessed enough to live your dreams, And it's OK . . . Not everyone is dark enough to cast in your nightmares, And it's OK . . . If everyone is meant to be a friend, Why, then, does the word 'enemy' exist? If everyone cares, How, then, do you understand indifference? Trying to make everyone 'see' the way you see just brings about enough heartbreak and conflict. *The latter is absolutely necessary sometimes :D* Even if you have to do so for a worthy cause, LOVE should be your watchword.

Not speaking and speaking are both human ways of being in the world, and there are kinds and grades of each. There is the dumb silence of slumber or apathy; the sober silence that goes with a solemn animal face; the fertile silence of awareness, pasturing the soul, whence emerge new thoughts; the alive silence of alert perception, ready to say, “This… this…”; the musical silence that accompanies absorbed activity; the silence of listening to another speak, catching the drift and helping him be clear; the noisy silence of resentment and self-recrimination, loud and subvocal speech but sullen to say it; baffled silence; the silence of peaceful accord with other persons or communion with the cosmos.

Note that the word 'mute' is regarded by linguists as an onomatopoeic formation referring not to silence but to a certain fundamental opacity of human being, which likes to show the truth by allowing to be seen hiding.

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.

nothing is lifeless when the moon writes its screed on the silvern sand silence -From the poem:"The Universe In Blossom

….Nothing was inevitable. She had not chosen this way. It was her fate. It had been decided since before time began. It had been decided before she began. Nothing could be done. There was no point in trying. It was way too late. The inevitability of nothing was totally supreme, overriding everything. No way out. No way through. She could only accept the unacceptable. She could only endure the unendurable. Nothing was wrong! Nothing was wrong and the wrongness of this awesome nothing seeped from her. Some people, only a few, saw it. Some people, only a few felt it. Some people, only a few, recognised it and in recognising it for what it was, raged against it. Through the nothingness, these few reached out for her. She could not reach back. Through the nothingness, these few fought for her. She could not fight back for herself. Through the nothingness, these few cared for her. She could not care back for herself. Through the nothingness, these few spoke out for her, shattering the frozen silence over and over again. She could not speak out for herself…. “ *I hope this may give some comfort to people who need it. There are good, caring people (whether outside or within yourself, if need be) and you do deserve to be cared for and supported as much as anyone else does." From “Nothing”, one of the short stories in “Fight! Rabbit! Fight!

Nowadays silence is looked on as odd and most of my race has forgotten the beauty of meaning much by saying little. Now tongues work all day by themselves with no help from the mind.

Not to mention that God speaks in a language more difficult than Portuguese or Mandarin or HTML; He speaks in silence. I remember saying ‘bullshit’ the first time someone told me that, but I’ve come to realize that if you are still enough you can listen to silence like listening to music, you can read silence like reading a book. Moreover, if more than 80 percent of the way humans communicate is nonverbal, couldn't that mean that the majority of communication with the Divine is nonverbal as well? Prayer, meditation, listening - each was a tool for reading God's body language.

Not words. nor laughter. but rather someone who will fall in love with your silence.

Now they came, spectres in mourning, humbling themselves, ghosts, their eyes the only points of brightness. It was harrowing: a long cortege of shadows. This time silence had come flooding in. Not a sound, not a cry. A silence all the more sinister for being black. There is the white silence of the Beguines' workrooms; it is sweet. Here was a black silence that strikes terror to the heart, slipping past like water, as full of pitfalls as the night. At first all that could be made out was a tangle of crosses, all the raised arms of the crosses of a graveyard. All with their dead.

O dear Himalaya...why are you so amazing, can I kiss your peak or can I just let your silence speak...O dear Himalaya...

Often the most effective statement we can make in a noisy world is to say nothing at all. Don't waste your words over something or to someone who deserves silence.

Now, Emily didn't make a sound. There was something more defining about the soundless reality that condemned the paradigm of passion.

No words. Just my finger pointing in silence. My finger silently saying, ’Unwrap me, darling.

On a ship, knowing when to be silent is just as important as knowing when to speak.

Om is the signature sound of this Universe. It is the soundless sound of existence.

Once, in grade school, our class was taken on an overnight excursion to a campground. The air was warm: we had a campfire and ate hot dogs; and as darkness fell, we were herded down to the lake. There were perhaps thirty children, so I suppose there were at least four or five adults. We trooped through the woods with flashlights. There must have been yelling and singing, the grown-ups chattering. A noisy expedition. At the shore of the lake we were presented, as if on a stage, with a doubled moon -- one floating in the clear dark sky, one in the clear dark calm of the water. Were there exclamations, shouts of amazement, loud giggle praise for this sight? There might have been, but for me there was only silence. An unprecedented silence, tranquil and immense. Silence, and the moon on the lake -- a sight so pure I nearly staggered under its impact. I knew, without the words to say it, that the lack in my life of what this moon and lake represented was the other side of the coin of happiness. Not unhappiness, but shame, which was possibly the same thing, and which then rose up in me in nauseating waves.