Quiet Person Has The Loudest Mind Novels & Stories

Ethan’s POV There is a difference between things being calm and things being quiet and most people do not notice it because to them those two things feel the same, but I learned a long time ago that real calm does not come with that slight edge that makes you pay attention without knowing why quiet does and right now something feels quiet in a way that is wrong. I do not say anything at first because instincts like this are not something you announce without reason, and they are definitely not something you act on without understanding, but I have learned to never ignore them because ignoring them is how things slip through and how you miss the moment that matters.

I lay still and tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I was aware of him sitting there, and the awareness made my mind stay active even when my body was exhausted. I turned to face the wall. I tried focusing on my breathing. A long silence settled. Then his voice came quietly from across the room. “You’re thinking too loudly.” I spun around to face him. “What does that even mean?” He looked at me with those pale eyes. “Every time you calm down, your heartbeat speeds up again.” Of course he could hear it.

He looks at me. Like I want to keep going. The room is silent. The room is the quietest room I have ever been in. The room is so quiet I can hear the clock. I can hear the parking lot. I can hear his breathing. I can hear the small hum of the building. I can hear the small sound of my own heart, which is a sound I have been hearing for six weeks, and which is, right now, the loudest sound in the world.

I read. He wrote. The room was, I was aware of this the way you were aware of a temperature, as a thing the body registered before the mind classified it, the room was the most specific quality of quiet I had encountered in the weeks of this house. Not the quiet of absence, the quiet that existed in rooms when no one was in them, which was a passive thing, the room simply not being occupied. This was the quiet of presence. Of two people present and occupied and proximate and, not speaking.

He simply gave a small, shy smile and took a slight, graceful bow. ​For the first time in his life, the silence wasn't a prison he was locked inside it was a choice he was making. It was a space he owned. And as the neighborhood erupted into applause, the sound washing over him like a warm tide, Tobi realized that while he might always be "The Quiet One," his heart would always be the loudest, most vibrant thing in the room.

"Peaceful and quiet." "That's not supposed to happen!" Dame exclaimed. "The words peace and quiet have never been part of your vocabulary." "I know," Derrick whispered. "Is it too bad if I like it?" "I mean, it's fine," Zin responded. "But I don't think it's usual that you can't hear any evil thoughts at all." "I can hear them," Derrick tried to explain. "But it's quiet, almost silent. The whispers that were once clouding up my mind now sound like insects buzzing near me."

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

"Yes?" "Do you miss it? The silence?" Cale looked at the busy street. Cars honking. People shouting. Music blaring from a passing car. "Sometimes," Cale admitted. "The noise... it is exhausting. Processing the input requires constant energy." "But?" "But silence is lonely," Cale said. "I prefer the noise. As long as you are the loudest thing in it." Elion smiled. He squeezed Cale's hand. They got their pizza. They ate it on a bench in a nearby park.

Finally, I produce the old chestnut: “Prove it.” Chen stares at me while silence pools around our bench. It’s never really silent in New York, but nobody’s talking while the dogs bark and the cars honk and the trucks idle. I think of Gandhi behind us, out of view, burdened with melting snow. Man won a war for independence with peace and quiet. That doesn’t seem to have worked for my Tibetan friends. Nonetheless, I’m gonna take a page from their playbook and keep my mouth shut. Mindfulness. Maybe there’s something to it.

Not a single chirp but pairs and pairs that they unsure how many of it. Half of a minute, that's what it took for the those in nest to come, silently just their described by their name "The sãlnes" a k.a "The silence". They are very sensitive to sound, very sensitive, as much as breathe could be caught. They would prefer them silence, and then only sounds they love, maybe the ripping flesh and bone. No one know how it's look, that's all myth but maybe some information at this moment.