How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.

For now she need not think of anybody. She could be herself, by herself. And that was what now she often felt the need of - to think; well not even to think. To be silent; to be alone. All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others... and this self having shed its attachments was free for the strangest adventures.

All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others.

When you are silent you are again beautiful.

We are only lightly covered with buttoned cloth; and beneath these pavements are shells, bones and silence.

It is true that each visit began, continued, or concluded with a declaration of love, but in between there was much room for silence.

A veces una hora de silencio es la más exquisita, el ingenio puede ser aburridor a más no poder.

Milly Brush once might almost have fallen in love with these silences.

One must learn to be silent just as one must learn to talk.