Best 3011 quotes in «silence quotes» category

I hear the most music in the depths of silence.

I hear nothing. I hear nothing, but what does it mean that I hear nothing? I walk in the cemeteries of this city at night and I hear nothing. I walk among mortals and sometimes I hear nothing. I walk alone and I hear nothing, as if I myself had no inner voice.

I heard silence, silence infinite as the bottom of the ocean, a silence that sealed.

I heard the silence pouring from them. The audience held themselves quiet, tense, and tight, as if the song had burned them worse than flame. Each person held their wounded selves closely, clutching their pain as if it were a precious thing.

I hope you remember that you always have a place to hide, away from the noise of the world, away from all that dares to wound your heart. You can always hide within the merciful heart of God.

I just wanted silence, not rage, not anger, not going trouble... One simple thing silence!

I just realized that sleep sometimes is the only precious wage for the hard working man.

I just wish you could see my demons for what they are, and lay here beside me on the floor. No words. Just your presence.

I know now that the Spirit is trying to birth something in my life when I find myself craving silence and darkness, when I find myself editing my circle down to just the trusted few whom I know will midwife me through this birth. It's nothing to fear; it's the time of transition.

I know there is a moment when sound slips down the torn lining of itself into silence, is carried unheard and secret in its own pocket. But the crimson birds could find no such escape, no means of slipping beyond themselves between the cracks of color and song to a white undiscovered silence.

I know you have it in you, Guy," Anne said suddenly at the end of a silence, "the capacity to be terribly happy.

I know you’ll speak no truth at this time. I’ve to be guided solely by your silence, your eyes and the inaudible appeals of your heart.

I lay down across her with my face in her breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side. (Pause. Krapp's lips move. No sound.) Past midnight. Never knew such silence. The earth might be uninhabited.

I let quiet shape what I say, then realize there is nothing that can be fully said—the reason for gestures and eyes and art. Always something waiting, wanting, expectant, yet also curiously not.

I like dogs that bark a little. The silent ones scare me.

I listen to the silence and yearn to be more me, swimming in the sea of myself, learning eternally - finding out where the rocks are and smoothing them into sand.

I long for the day when I hear the music without any song.

I love silent conversations accompanied by a soft caress on my skin and my head on your chest listening to your heart desires.

I maintained a tactical silence. When you maintain a tactical silence and look people right in the eye, as if drinking in their words, they talk. People like to be listened to, as every researcher knows--every researcher, every writer, every spy.

I'm all these words, all these strangers, this dust of words, with no ground for their settling, no sky for their dispersing, coming together to say, fleeing one another to say, that I am they, all of them, those that merge, those that part, those that never meet, and nothing else, yes, something else, that I'm something quite different, a quite different thing, a wordless thing in an empty place, a hard shut dry cold black place, where nothing stirs, nothing speaks, and that I listen, and that I seek, like a caged beast born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born in a cage and dead in a cage, born and then dead, born in a cage and then dead in a cage, in a word like a beast, in one of their words, like such a beast, and that I seek, like such a beast, with my little strength, such a beast, with nothing of its species left but fear and fury, no, the fury is past, nothing but fear, nothing of all its due but fear centupled, fear of its shadow, no, blind from birth, of sound then, if you like, we'll have that, one must have something, it's a pity, but there it is, fear of sound, fear of sounds, the sounds of beasts, the sounds of men, sounds in the daytime and sounds at night, that's enough, fear of sounds all sounds, more or less, more or less fear, all sounds, there's only one, continuous, day and night, what is it, it's steps coming and going, it's voices speaking for a moment, it's bodies groping their way, it's the air, it's things, it's the air among the things, that's enough, that I seek, like it, no, not like it, like me, in my own way, what am I saying, after my fashion, that I seek, what do I seek now, what it is, it must be that, it can only be that, what it is, what it can be, what what can be, what I seek, no, what I hear, I hear them, now it comes back to me, they say I seek what it is I hear, I hear them, now it comes back to me, what it can possibly be, and where it can possibly come from, since all is silent here, and the walls thick, and how I manage, without feeling an ear on me, or a head, or a body, or a soul, how I manage, to do what, how I manage, it's not clear, dear dear, you say it's not clear, something is wanting to make it clear, I'll seek, what is wanting, to make everything clear, I'm always seeking something, it's tiring in the end, and it's only the beginning.

I missed you, Angel. Not one day went by that I didn't feel you missing from my life. You haunted me to the point that I began to believe Hank had gone back on his oath and killed you. I saw your ghost in everything. I couldn't escape you and I didn't want to. You tortured me, but it was better than losing you.

In 2011, actor Johnny Depp told the November issue of Vanity Fair that he felt participating in a photoshoot was akin to rape. "Well, you just feel like you're being raped somehow. Raped . . . It feels like a kind of weird - just weird, man. But whenever you have a photo shoot or something like that, it's like - you just feel dumb. It's just so stupid," he said. Likening instances of being flustered or uneasy to the often life-shattering experience of rape has become a far too common comparison in modern lexicon. The phrase "Facebook rape" is perhaps the most widely used, which implies one person has posted on another person's Facebook account - usually something intended to embarrass the person. But the casual, flippant use of the term "rape" in instances that do not involve sexual violence is highly problematic in that it trivialises one of the most despicable invasions of a human being. Desensitising the masses to the term "rape" is just another way the conversation surrounding sexual assault is derailed or diluted in society. Rape is, and should be considered universally, as a serious societal sickness that occurs within the "toxic silence" that surrounds sexual assault as Tara Moss put so elegantly in her recent Q&A appearance. Further to that, the use of the term can be a trigger for rape survivors in that it may jolt terrifying memories of their own experience. According to the Australian Institute of Family Studies, up to 57 per cent of rape survivors suffer post-traumatic stress disorder in their lifetime, with "triggers" including inflammatory words like rape causing deeply traumatic recollections. Beware desensitising the term "rape", Newcastle Herald, June 6, 2014

I'm lonely, Yes! I'm so lonely. I'm Just a sad tear that came out of the depths of pain. I have neither friend nor a lover. I live in an empty dark shell. Punctuated by the lights of my dreams. I hear a whisper. I hear an echo. Why everything I love in this world. It's expensive, or it makes me sad. Beyond my shell, there is an empty world. A world filled with hatred and lies. A world filled with vanity and treason. A world filled with injustice and selfishness. There is a noise in my silence, but I shout quietly. So as to your pure heart can hear me. I tried to escape from my bitter reality. A reality that walks against my dreams. I found out that sleep is my best shelter. Because life is easy when eyes are closed. So I give up my eyes, and went to sleep. Then suddenly! I felt a call, something tried to wake me up. I felt whispers caressing my soul. That together we stand, divided we fall. That you are the king of my thrown, And only beside you, I feel like I have everything. I love you my shell, my home.

I'm not the sort that tells tales about what other people do', he said

I'm silent when there is a war inside me. There's a need to keep the people outside intact.

I must be getting back to my rooms,” Silence said and stood. Mick frowned with displeasure. “Why?” “Because of Mary Darling.” He shrugged. “One o’ the maids is watchin’ her.” “But if Mary wakes she’ll want me.” “Why?” he asked again, biting into a sweetmeat. This discussion wasn’t to his fancy, but sparring with her was. “Because,” she said slowly, looking at him as if he were lack-witted, “she’s only a baby and she loves me.” “Babies,” Mick pronounced, “are a great trouble.” She shook her head, not bothering to reply this time, and started marching to the door.

In a dark silent room I sit all alone Feeling only the pain and With uncontrollable tears The floral bed sheets I'm covered in Fails to offer the warmth and comfort I’m trapped Underneath the blankets Screaming and tormenting I'm passing the nights

In a democracy, there will be more complaints but less crisis, in a dictatorship more silence but much more suffering.

In an age that valued prolonged and detailed exposition, complexity, and repetition it was astonishing that Luther should have instinctively discerned the value of brevity.

I miss the snow. I miss looking at it, walking in it, tasting it. I used to love those days when it was so cold everyone else would be tucked away inside trying to stay warm. I would be the only one out walking, so I could look across the fields and see miles of snow without a single footprint in it. It would be completely silent -- no cars, no birds singing, no doors slamming. Just silence and snow. God, I miss snow. The stars, the moon, the wind, and blankets of pure, pristine snow.

I'm very depressed how in this country you can be told "That's offensive" as though those two words constitute an argument.

In angry protest the red telephone splintered the silence.

In a simple street you can find the whole world: You can find joy and sorrow; you can find good and evil, silence and noise; you can find all the comedies and all the tragedies! An ordinary simple street is the mirror of the whole world!

Incest, rape and abuse is rampant everywhere, even in our churches, but society is silent. It is a silent epidemic. One in three women will experience a sexual assault in her lifetime and one in six males, yet we don't speak of it, even in our churches!

In fact, the room was so quiet you might have heard a drop of paint splash.

Influence is when you don't talk and yet your words fill the room; when you are absent and yet your presence is felt everywhere.

I never argue with a person; with love, I listen in deep silence.

In every story there is a silence, some sight concealed, some word unspoken, I believe. Till we have spoken the unspoken we have not come to the heart of the story.

Information is like water. It finds its way to all the wrong places.

In intimacy there exists a line That can't be crossed by passion or love's art -- In awful silence lips melt into one And out of love to pieces bursts the heart. And friendship here is impotent, and years Of happiness sublime in fire aglow, When soul is free and does not hear The dulling of sweet passion, long and slow. Those who are striving toward it are in fever, But those that reach it struck with woe that lingers. Now you have understood, why forever My heart does not beat underneath your fingers.

In my silence and stillness, my soul dances with the ecstasy of life.

In my opinion, it was chiefly owing to their deep contemplation in their silent retreats in the days of youth that the old Indian orators acquired the habit of carefully arranging their thoughts. They listened to the warbling of birds and noted the grandeur and the beauties of the forest. The majestic clouds—which appear like mountains of granite floating in the air—the golden tints of a summer evening sky, and the changes of nature, possessed a mysterious significance. All of this combined to furnish ample matter for reflection to the contemplating youth.

In silence alone does a man's truth bind itself together and strike root.

In order to escape accountability for his crimes, the perpetrator does everything in his power to promote forgetting. Secrecy and silence are the perpetrator’s first line of defense. If secrecy fails, the perpetrator attacks the credibility of his victim. If he cannot silence her absolutely, he tries to make sure that no one listens. To this end, he marshals an impressive array of arguments, from the most blatant denial to the most sophisticated and elegant rationalization. After every atrocity one can expect to hear the same predictable apologies: it never happened; the victim lies; the victim exaggerates; the victim brought it upon herself; and in any case it is time to forget the past and move on. The more powerful the perpetrator, the greater is his prerogative to name and define reality, and the more completely his arguments prevail.

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.

In reading a recent novel, I myself was convicted by a comment the mother makes to her adult daughter: ‘My dear, you’ve missed so many opportunities to say nothing.’ We do miss these opportunities, as well as opportunities to say less and say it more judiciously. And so we miss particular delights of finding words and speaking them into silences big enough to allow them to be heard.

In silence there is a perfection which any toil injures.

In silence lies safety.

Inspired action is when you take action with no mind. Pure silence.

Intellectuality" silences OTHERS! "Intelligence" keeps YOU silent!