Silence Is Cowardice Quotes & Sayings

Keats's odes are among my favorite poems ever. As are Neruda's. So yes, I think my poems are odes, though I really just see those titles as ways of more or less orienting the poem. I've never thought about this until now, but I guess you could say that one effect of all the titles, their pervasiveness in the book, might be to once again, as so many other things do, put into question the meaning of the word "for," which I suppose is one of the great human questions: what is all this for? Why, and for whom, are we doing whatever we are doing? — Matthew Zapruder

It seemed sensible to crave safety, to crave shelter from the bombs and the Birds and the daily depravity of war. But somewhere deep in her mind an idea had begun to fester-perhaps the longing for safety was itself just another kind of violence-a violence of cowardice, silence, submission. What was safety, anyway, but the sound of a bomb falling on someone else's home? — Omar El Akkad

I wouldn't say I'm a phenomenon, just a great athlete. — Usain Bolt

The important thing is how we know, not what or how much. — John Lancaster Spalding

Please beware of them that stare
They'll only smile to see you while
Your time away
And once you've seen what they have been
To win the earth just won't seem worth
Your night or your day — Nick Drake

Silence becomes cowardice when occasion demands speaking out the whole truth and acting accordingly. — Mahatma Gandhi

Sometimes I can still sleep it off, my fear. My dreams are gentle now even when they are about being mugged, robbed and knocked down, even when I am pressing my car key into a bit of yielding earth. But often in the afternoons I wake after a nap with an awful sense of its being over and that it never meant much; I never had a life. The valuable sweetness and the hard work are infected by the fact of death: they no longer seem to have been so wonderful, but they are all I had. And then I want to be comforted. I want my old, unthreatening forms of silence, and comedy-and-cowardice. I want breath and stories and the world. — Harold Brodkey

We sealed my father's grave on a day of stark contrasts, of black against white, and it was the last time I'd ever find myself in a place of such extremes. Because in the months after the dirt fell on the coffin, my life began to shift to shades of gray, almost like the universe had taken a big stick and stirred up the whole scene at that cemetery, mixing up everything and repainting my world. — Beth Fantaskey

I abstain from the people who consider insolence bravery and tenderness cowardice. And I abstain from those who consider chatter wisdom and silence ignorance. — Kahlil Gibran

Once upon a time there was a saucer pie. A saucer pie is one that is baked in a saucer instead of a pan; and if you have never seen one, I hope you will before you are a hundred years old. — Maud Lindsay

If women ruled the world and we all got massages, there would be no war. — Carrie Snow

Stop thinking," Brian whispered. He ran two fingers up under the edge of her T-shirt, teasing her stomach. "Let me make it good for you." Her stomach clenched at his light touch, and his words. "I don't get a say in it?" she teased. "Of course you do," he said, starting a slow, small, side-to-side rocking motion with his hips, brushing his hard dick against her, teasing her. "You can let me, or you can fight me. It can be crazy good when you fight it. — Samantha Kane

Government disinformation is an intelligent joke for smart generation. — Toba Beta

I used to run ten miles every other day and eat very little. I was living in London on my own for the first time and no one was checking on me. I wasn't anorexic but lost three stone. I weighed around seven. It lasted six months until I ran out of willpower. — Honeysuckle Weeks

For the next two weeks, the world and all other issues would be omitted. We were two people alone in a hospital room. We allowed no visitors. We had two weeks of near-silence with each other and my increasing helplessness. I tended to tangle the IV and misplace the oxygen tube. As I started to say earlier, I could feel no sensible interest in the future. The moments became extraordinarily dimensionless - not without value but flat and a great deal emptier. When you learn you're fatally ill, time becomes very confusing, perhaps uninteresting, pedestrian. But my not caring if I lived or died hurt Ellen. And I was grateful that I could indulge my cowardice toward death in terms of living for her. — Harold Brodkey