Quotes On My Silence Novels & Stories

A terrifying, impossible thought. No. I whisper the word to the empty room. "No." But the silence doesn't answer. The silence just watches. And waits.

"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."

“But I’m trying to save what it meant.” The lamp beside her flickered once. Then stayed lit. Before she slept, Lena wrote one final line into the Doctrine’s epilogue: “To those who chose silence—this is not your indictment. This is your invitation to speak now. Loud. Messy. Real.”

Not for him to know he wasn’t alone. But for us to have a chance. Because love, I’ve come to realize, isn’t a weakness. But silence? Silence is cowardice. And I’ve been a coward long enough.

One poorly chosen word. Irreversible. I imagined my hands shaking, my voice breaking, headlines twisting every syllable. My throat tightened. Absolutely not. Silence. Say nothing. Disappear. Let the storm exhaust itself. Silence could feel dignified. Untouchable. Above the noise. But silence could also look like confirmation. The world hated empty spaces. It filled them with its own stories. And right now, their stories were merciless. I exhaled slowly. Silence was both shield and weapon.

Behind his eyelids, the Utterance stirred with ancient, weary understanding. Before I asked WHY, the nine-billion-year-old consciousness whispered, there was Silence. Not emptiness. Silence. The Silence that precedes every word. The Silence that makes speech possible. Without the pause before a sentence, the sentence has no beginning. Without the Silence before creation, creation has no origin. "The Silence is not our enemy," Jack said, opening his eyes. "It is eating our choir," Marcus growled.

"Just remember what you're saying now, and don't come crawling back. However, even if you do, it's pointless. Charles only has eyes for me. "You're clueless, aren't you? Charles has been into me for three years. I'm his one and only." I never noticed how clueless Emily was until then. Her words stopped me in my tracks. "Emily, have you ever heard the saying that the worst heartache comes from love that's never returned? Is that you?" The woman who was all fire and fury a moment ago suddenly looked like a frog caught by the throat, speechless. She stood there, mouth hanging open, but no words came out.

"That sounds nice." "That's belief," he said simply. “I don't doubt what I don't see. I can feel it! ”He explained to her. He stood in front of her. "Close your eyes." He asked and Alissa obeyed after a moment's hesitation. He gently stroked her cheek with his finger. "Do you feel that?" She nodded. "What was that?" He wanted to know. "Your finger."

I used to think silence meant peace. That if the world stopped shouting, I could finally breathe. But lately, silence has been louder than any argument. Louder than Michelle’s lies, or Edward’s fake concern. Louder than Emily’s refusal to meet my eyes. Today, the silence screamed again.

crestfallen souls' muffled cries, voluble minds of the wide awake who appears to be nocturnal, and mysteries that emerge when the world is in deep dark shadow They're to blame for how deafening silence can be at times. "You're quiet" I said. "Silence isn't quiet." he responded. I looked at him immediately. "The parting of vanilla clouds from the sky isn't as quiet as silence. The banging of hammer and thunder is not silence, but the banging of hammer and thunder. Silence is a yearning attention, not a reserve emotion. It's the sound of lungs gasping for air while barely breathing. It's the kind of chest that tears itself away from your ribcage, yearning to be heard and assured.."