Pulp Fiction Silence Quote Novels & Stories

‎(Damon’s POV‍) ‎ ‎I’d learn‍e‌d a long time ago that sile‍nce was more‌ powerful‍ than words. ‎But tha⁠t night — after the gala, after the flashing lights, after her — silence felt like a blade c‍utting through the a‌ir. ‎ ‎The photo was everywh‍ere‌ by morning. ‎Every busine‌ss⁠ column, every gossip site, every investo‌r update.

This is messing me up! “What?” Silva looked at me. “What?” I looked back at him. “What did you just say?” He asked. “I didn’t say anything.” I blinked at him in confusion. “You did,” He said, ‘If I knew it was impossible without you I never would have done it.’” Silence. An awkward silence. My cheeks began to redden Shit!!!!!!! Did I say that aloud?!!! I pursed my lips while we both continued to stare at each other in silence.

All he could see was red. "Show her the beast you are!" Silas laughed coughing out blood, the room reverberating with the intensity of their confrontation. Silvio unleashed his untamed fury upon him. “Shut up! I SAID FUCKING SHUT UP!” Silvio growled. “She’ll hate you! AND YOU’LL DIE A MISERABLE DEATH!” Silas laughed maniacally.

she smiled genuinely making me heart warm up to her. I mastered up a small smile and went inside, I felt my anxiety pipe up and I nodded at them in acknowledgment. One good thing about my family is that they all are comfortable with my silence. Apart from my parents no one knows that I can speak again and no one ever forced me to either. It's better this way. Not having to explain anything to anyone. Staying in my own mind, even though it can be harmful sometimes I don't care. "I'm literally stinking and exhausted right now" I wanted to groan but smiled at what Malaika was saying. She was a nice girl with an even beautiful accent. Her Urdu is to die for, god. That's my new inspiration right

I blurt out in frustration. Silence filled the room and I can't help but to scoff. Their silence is like a cancer that slowly killing me. Can't they realize that the more they hide something from me the more the situation gets worsen? "If you always keep your mouth close" I paused and took a deep breath "Don't feel regret once I die" I hissed and turn my head on the closed glass window. My lips tighten and I fisted my hand while intently watching how the droplets of water slowly streaming down to the glass window.

"This hotel belongs to your uncle?" Nodding, he pillowed his head and lay on the floor, giving a click to the remote he held. The vault switched to a transparent top. "Here is where I speak to the silence, blame the world, and shed my tears." That somehow dimmed the glow hopping on her hand. She took a seat next to him. Under the soothing lights, his sharp facial features stood out even more, and so did his bottled loneliness. She understood the familiar silence. It was whispering, yearning to be heard after years of being ignored.

August repeated to the silence. ​---

"You went quiet. Are you having doubts? I get it. You love Mr. Preston so much—" Shiloh cut him off. "I don't regret it. I never will. I stopped loving him a long time ago." The words had barely left her mouth when the door swung open. Manuel stood there, his cold stare dark and furious. "Stopped loving me?" he said. "Shiloh, say that again."

‎Silence. ‎Heavy. Suffocating. ‎No one dares to speak. ‎A bitter laugh escapes my lips as I shake my head slowly. ‎“Since no one is ready to talk…” I say, my voice dropping into something far more dangerous, “…I’ll fish out the spy myself.” ‎I pause, letting the weight of my words settle on them. ‎“And when I do…” I add quietly, “that person will wish they never crossed me.” ‎I turn to Pedro, my expression cold and final.

The man sobbed openly now. “We’ll fight for you! We swear!” Silivio crouched slightly before him. Then grabbed the man’s jaw harshly. “You already failed me.” The man whimpered. Silivio's eyes darkened completely. “And failure,” he whispered, “is expensive.” BANG! The final shot echoed through the hall. Then silence. Heavy. Horrifying silence. Bodies littered the floor. Blood spread slowly across polished marble. And Don Silivio Rossi stood in the middle of it all breathing steadily.