To restore silence is the role of objects.
The world would be much happier, if men were as fully able to keep silence as they are to speak.
The world is never quiet; even its silence eternally resounds with the same notes, in vibrations that escape our ears. As for those that we perceive, they carry sounds to us, occasionally a chord, never a melody.
The silence is so intense that you can hear your own blood roar in your ears but louder than that by far is the mysterious roar which I alwas identify with the roaring of the diamond wisdom, the mysterious roar of silence itself, which is a great Shhhh reminding you of something you’ve seemed to have forgotten in the stress of your days since birth.
Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear.
Silence makes even idiots seem wise for a minute.
Silence itself, is enough to show the impulses of a heart.[Un silence est assez pour expliquer un cœur.]
Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much.
Silence about a thing just magnifies it.
Nothing was more conducive to the development of observation than compulsory silence.
Most people don’t know how to appreciate silence. They can’t help talking.
In human intercourse the tragedy begins, not when there is misunderstanding about words, but when silence is not understood.
