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Silence Quotes

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Silence Quotes

“Filled with rapture, his soul yearned for freedom, space, vastness. Over him the heavenly dome, full of quiet, shining stars, hung boundlessly. From the zenith to the horizon the still-dim Milky Way stretched its double strand. Night, fresh and quiet, almost unstirring, enveloped the earth. The white towers and golden domes of the church gleamed in the sapphire sky. The luxuriant autumn asleep till morning. The silence of the earth seemed to merge with the silence of the heavens and the mystery of the earth touched the mystery of the stars.”

WayStillsSoulEarthNightHeavenStarsChurchSpaceWhiteSilenceMorningMysterySkyQuietFilledShiningGoldenTouchedHeavenlyAutumnHorizonHungTowersRaptureStrandsVastnessDomesMilky WayZenithShining StarSapphires
Book:The Brothers Karamazov: A Novel in Four Parts With Epilogue
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“we left about midnight and walked down the hill in silence. the night was muggy, and all around me i felt the same pressure, a sense of time rushing by while it seemed to be standing still. whenever i thought of time in puerto rico, i was reminded of those old magnetic clocks that hung on the walls of my classrooms in high school. every now and then a hand would not move for several minutes -- and if i watched it long enough, wondering if it had finally broken down, the sudden click of the hand jumping three for four notches would startle me when it came.”

IfsLongStillsEnoughHandsSchoolMovingNightThreeLeftFeltSilenceWonderFourMinutesBrokenWallHigh SchoolStandingPressureHillsClockClassroomNow And ThenHungMidnightJumpingClicksRushingMagneticPuerto RicoBroken DownStanding StillNotchesRico
Book:The Rum Diary: A Novel
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“My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you. But for every real word spoken, for every attempt I had ever made to speak those truths for which I am still seeking, I had made contact with other women while we examined the words to fit a world in which we all believed, bridging our differences.”

WorldMadeStillsRealSpeakDifferencesSilenceFitProtectSeekingContactProtectedProtect You
Book:Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches
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“At that moment, it seemed to him that time stood still, and the Soul of the World surged within him. When he looked into her dark eyes, and saw that her lips were poised between a laugh and silence, he learned the most important part of the language that all the world spoke — the language that everyone on earth was capable of understanding in their heart. It was love. Something older than humanity, more ancient than the desert. Something that exerted the same force whenever two pairs of eyes met, as had theirs here at the well.”

WorldWellsHeartStillsTwoImportantSoulMomentsEyeEarthHumanityLanguageForceUnderstandingDarkSilenceLaughingSawsMetsCapableLipsAncientDesertPairsSpokesThat MomentAlchemist LoveDark Eyes
Author:Paulo Coelho
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“[Speaking] is never without fear; of visibility, of the harsh light of scrutiny and perhaps judgment, of pain, of death. But we have lived through all of those already, in silence, except death. And I remind myself all the time now, that if I were to have been born mute, and had maintained an oath of silence my whole life for safety, I would still have suffered, and I would still die.”

IfsHas BeensStillsWholeLightPainDiesBornSilenceJudgmentSafetyWhole LifeHarshOathScrutinyMuteVisibility
Book:The Cancer Journals
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“On a day of burial there is no perspective--for space itself is annihilated. Your dead friend is still a fragmentary being. The day you bury him is a day of chores and crowds, of hands false or true to be shaken, of the immediate cares of mourning. The dead friend will not really die until tomorrow, when silence is round you again. Then he will show himself complete, as he was--to tear himself away, as he was, from the substantial you. Only then will you cry out because of him who is leaving and whom you cannot detain.”

LoveStillsShowsHandsCareDeathDiesSpaceSilenceDyingCryTearsPerspectiveTomorrowLeavingRoundsCrowdsMourningSilence IsSaying GoodbyeYou AgainChoresBurialSomeone Dying
Author:Antoine de Saint-Exupery
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“We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken a lifetime to learn. It seems only the old are able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young, brash and impatient, must always break the silence. It is a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox.”

PeopleWorldFeelsStillsSeemsAbleTogetherYoungNextSilenceWatchesBreakTakenPerspectiveHolyPureWasteComfortablePerceptionDrawsLifetimeParadoxLost LoveSay AnythingSilence IsImpatientNotebookBrashNotebook LovePerception Of Others
Author:Nicholas Sparks
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“As the surface of the seashore rocks were pitted by by the waves and gathered limpets that further disguised what lay beneath, so time made truth of what appeared to be. The days that passed, in becoming weeks, still did not disturb the surface an assumption had created. The weather of a beautiful summer continued with neither sign nor hint that credence had been misplaced. The single sandal found among the rocks became a sodden image of death; and as the keening on the pier at Kilauran traditionally marked distres brought by the sea, so did silence at Lahardane.”

MadeStillsBeautifulFoundSilenceWeekSeaRocksBecomingSummerLaysWaveSurfaceWeatherAssumptionHintsMisplacedSandalsCredenceSeashorePiers
Book:The Story of Lucy Gault
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“Communing with God is communing with our own hearts, our own best selves, not with something foreign and accidental. Saints and devotees have gone into the wilderness to find God; of course they took God with them, and the silence and detachment enabled them to hear the still, small voice of their own souls, as one hears the ticking of his own watch in the stillness of the night.”

HeartStillsSoulSelfNightCoursesVoiceSilenceWatchesGoneSaintWildernessStillnessDetachmentBest SelfDevoteeSmall Voice
Book:The Art of Seeing Things: Essays
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“Warm are the still and lucky miles, White shores of longing stretch away, A light of recognition fills The whole great day, and bright The tiny world of lovers' arms. Silence invades the breathing wood Where drowsy limbs a treasure keep, Now greenly falls the learned shade Across the sleeping brows And stirs their secret to a smile. Restored! Returned! The lost are borne On seas of shipwreck home at last: See! In a fire of praising burns The dry dumb past, and we Our life-day long shall part no more.”

WorldLongStillsWholeHomeLightLastsPastFallLostSleepWhiteSecretSilenceFireOur LivesSeaArmsLoversLuckyPraiseLongingWoodsWarmTinyMilesTreasureRecognitionDumbBreathingDryShoreShadeLimbsBrowsGreat DayShipwreckDrowsy
Author:W. H. Auden
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“Four billion people on this earth, but my imagination is still the same. It's bad with large numbers. It's still taken by particularity. It flits in the dark like a flashlight, illuminating only random faces while all the rest go blindly by, never coming to mind and never really missed. . . . I can't tell you how much I pass over in silence.”

PeopleMindStillsI CanEarthFacesImaginationDarkNumbersSilenceTakenFourBillionsMy ImaginationLarge NumbersIlluminatingFlashlights
Book:View with a Grain of Sand: Selected Poems
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“Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd, Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd. Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise, Where mixed with Gods, his lov'd idea lies: O write it not, my hand - the name appears Already written - wash it out, my tears! In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays, Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeyes.”

WritingHeartStillsIdeasHandsLyingNamesLostSilenceWrittenTearsPrayingMy HeartHolyLipsDearVainDisguiseSeals
Book:The poetical works of Alexander Pope. To which is prefixed the life of the author
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“I guess it's hard, being apart all the time." "It really is. If Lucas were still here, everything would be different." Vic's smile turned smug. "Yeah, I'd have a roommate who could beat me at chess instead of the other way around." Ranulf never looked up from the chessboard. "I hear your insults and plan to silence them with my victory." "Keep dreaming," Vic called.”

IfsWayStillsDifferentHardDreamWould BeSilencePlansVictoryBeatsYeahChessInsultRoommateKeep Dreaming
Author:Claudia Gray
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“Until I am free to write bilingually and to switch codes without having always to translate, while I still have to speak English or Spanish when I would rather speak Spanglish, and as long as I have to accommodate the English speakers rather than having them accommodate me, my tongue will be illegitimate. I will no longer be made to feel ashamed of existing. I will have my voice: Indian, Spanish, white. I will have my serpent's tongue - my woman's voice, my sexual voice, my poet's voice. I will overcome the tradition of silence.”

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Author:Gloria E. Anzaldúa
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“If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent If the unheard, unspoken Word is unspoken, unheard; Still is the spoken word, the Word unheard, The Word without a word, the Word within The world and for the world; And the light shone in the darkness and Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled About the center of the silent Word. Oh my people, what have I done unto thee. Where shall the word be found, where shall the word Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence”

PeopleIfsWorldStillsDoneEnoughLightFoundLostSilenceDarknessSilentTheeUnspokenSpoken WordUnheardUnspoken Words
Author:T. S. Eliot
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“we have to listen to the child we once were, the child who still exists inside us. That child understands magic moments. We can stifle its cries, but we cannot silence its voice.The child we once were is still there. Blessed are the children, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.If we are not reborn if we cannot learn to look at life with the innocence and the enthusiasm o childhood it makes no sense to go on living.”

IfsLooksChildrenStillsMomentsHeavenVoiceSilenceMagicChildhoodCryGoes OnBlessedKingdomsEnthusiasmInnocenceRebornKingdom Of HeavenMagic Moments
Author:Paulo Coelho
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“If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience. The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky. Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests, and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.”

IfsHeartStillsNightSongWaitingVoiceSilenceBreakMorningDarknessSkyFlowerMy HeartLowsBirdWingsEndureForestsGoldenStreamsMelodyBentNestsGrove
Book:Gitanjali - Song Offerings
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“We keep quiet about what we read. Our enjoyment of a book remains a jealously guarded secret. Perhaps because there`s no need to talk, or because it takes time to distill what we've read before we can say anything. Silence is our guarantee of intimacy. We might have finished reading but we`re still living the book.”

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Author:Daniel Pennac
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“So Mo began filling the silence with words. He lured them out of the pages as if they had only been waiting for his voice, words long and short, words sharp and soft, cooing, purring words. They danced through the room, painting stained glass pictures, tickling the skin. Even when Meggie nodded off she could still hear them, although Mo had closed the book long ago. Words that explained the world to her, its dark side and its light side, words that built a wall to keep out bad dreams. And not a single bad dream came over that wall for the rest of the night.”

IfsWorldLongStillsBookDreamLightNightWaitingSidesVoiceDarkRoomsSilencePaintingWallPagesBuiltSkinsGlassesLong AgoFillingDark SideBad DreamPurringShort WordsStained GlassTickling
Author:Cornelia Funke
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“Even now, as I write this, I can still feel that tightness. And I want you to feel it--the wind coming off the river, the waves, the silence, the wooded frontier. You're at the bow of a boat on the Rainy River. You're twenty-one years old, you're scared, and there's a hard squeezing pressure in your chest. What would you do? Would you jump? Would you feel pity for yourself? Would you think about your family and your childhood and your dreams and all you're leaving behind? Would it hurt? Would it feel like dying? Would you cry, as I did?”

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Book:The Things They Carried
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