Silent Response Quotes & Sayings

The response is the faint, silent flickering of lights on the ends of the cylinders as, one by one, they propel themselves away, onward and down into the swirling gases below. For — Chris Walley

Shame about being hurt often has its origin in childhood. And it is then that many of us first learn that it is a virtue to be silent about pain. ... As more people have found the courage to break through shame and speak about woundedness in their lives, we are now subjected to a mean-spirited cultural response, where all talk of woundedness is mocked. The belittling of anyone's attempt to make a context within which they were wounded, were made a victim, is a form of shaming. — Bell Hooks

When all seems hopeless and all has gone silent, that's Destiny turning down the music so that all may hear our response to life's great storms, giving our response the chance to echo throughout eternity with the level of greatness it deserves. — A.J. Darkholme

I prefer that for my own satisfaction over radio, there's no audience. TV, there's no audience. I need the response of the audience, even if it's a silent response. — Al Lewis

This gathered worship, as Quakers call it, is not only absence of noise. Gathered worship springs from the reverent, silent expectation that God will come among the people. The silence deepens as we feel ourselves drawn beautifully to God and each other. Our hearts and souls burst with thanksgiving-a thanksgiving best expressed by silence. Silence growing from awe is the natural human response to hints of the Divine. — J. Brent Bill

There was another epidemic that was not talked about much, a silent scourge - the explosion of mental illness: major depression, psychosis, schizophrenia, manic-depression, personality disorders, grief response, post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety disorders, etc. - on a scale none of us had ever witnessed. — Chinua Achebe

Listening to all words
the silent words of nature, the words of friends and enemies, and the words of scripture
can become an exercise in human yearning and divine response, flowing in and out of one's life like a river current. — Kathleen Norris

It is good to ask questions, especially when we are uncertain, unsure or confused. However, we must check our attitudes and be certain that we do not fall into a position of "questioning." Questioning will only yield mistrust and division. Our motives should be to bring greater understanding and clarity to situations. Should we speak up or should we be silent? We must consider our choices prayerfully. Think of a time when you approached someone with a "questioning" attitude. How did he or she respond to you? What about a time when you approached someone with a pure attitude of asking questions? Was the response different? — Michael D. Sedler

I took the dog out for a walk tonight, and together we wandered across the meadow next door. It was a warm summer's night, dark, and moonless. There were a handful of fireflies flickering intermittently, some so close to me I could see they were burning green as they flew, and some further away, who seemed to be flashing white.
And in the sky above them a continual roil of distant summer lightning (the storm distant enough that it was silent) burned and flashed and illuminated the clouds. It seemed as if the lightning bugs were talking to the lightning, in a perfect call and response of flash and counterflash. I watched the sky and the meadow flash and flash while the dog walked ahead of me, and realised that I was perfectly happy ... — Neil Gaiman

My hands hovered suggestively over her and as her eyes widened, I started tickling her. Her panicked response became raucous laughter and filled the dark silent place with colourful confetti. She responded equally vigorously and it was a few minutes before we tired and fell down on the sofa, slightly apart but really wanting to throw ourselves on the other with blissful abandon. — Kavipriya Moorthy

The past year's natural disasters have highlighted the invaluable contributions of volunteers in our communities. They have volunteered their time, energy and skills to save lives and to rebuild communities. In this they joined countless people around the world who volunteer every day in response to 'silent crises'. These often unsung heroes understand all too well that poverty, disease and famine are just as deadly and destructive as earthquakes, hurricanes and tsunamis. — Kofi Annan

Draw on the following Bill of Rights for support: Unless someone is bleeding or choking or otherwise at risk of imminent demise, you have a right to think about it. Someone else's pressure is their pressure. You have a right to let them keep it. If someone makes a request and demands an immediate response, say "no." It is easier to change a "no" to a "yes" than it is to get out of something. You have a right not to know until you know, especially when you're asked a big question. We all carry around a sense of knowing - that internal, inexplicable sense of when something is or isn't right, but we can't access that sense while under pressure. You have a right to obtain more information. If you don't know, find out more. You do not have to jump in with affirming comments when you don't feel it. You have a right to remain silent. Flow — Laurie A. Helgoe

Her first week on the job a caller went silent in surprise on the other end of the line, expecting to hear Miss Jacobs' voice. Bertie's response: "Speak ass, 'cause the mouth won't! — Dawn Shamp

Hey there, sleeping beauty ... "
Over his shoulder, the sky had deepened to a denim blue. "Did you kiss me awake?"
"I did." Daemon was propped on his side, using his arm to support his head. He placed his hand on my stomach and my chest fluttered in response. "Told you, my lips have mystical powers."
My shoulders moved in a silent laugh. "How long have you been here?"
"Not long." His eyes searched mine. "I found Blake sulking around the woods. He didn't want to leave while you were out here."
I rolled my eyes.
"As much as it bothers me, I'm glad he didn't."
"Wow. Pigs are flying. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

When Alex leaves a little later, Carlos steps forward. "Need help?"
I shake my head.
"Are you ever gonna talk to me again? Dammit, Kiara, enough with the silent treatment. I'd rather have you say your little two-word sentences than stop talkin' altogether. Hell, just flip
me off again."
I toss my backpack in the backseat and start the engine.
"Where are you goin'?" Carlos asks, stepping in front of my car.
I beep.
"I'm not movin'," he says.
My response is another beep. It's not an intimidating, deep beep like most cars, but it's the best my car can give.
He places both hands on the hood.
"Move," I say.
He moves all right. With pantherlike quickness, Carlos jumps through the open passenger window, feet first.
"You should get the door fixed," he says. — Simone Elkeles

Then Wang Lung turned to the woman and looked at her for the first time. She had a square, honest face, a short, broad nose with large black nostrils, and her mouth was wide as a gash in her face. Her eyes were small and of a dull black in color, and were filled with some sadness that was not clearly expressed. It was a face that seemed habitually silent and unspeaking, as though it could not speak if it would. She bore patiently Wang Lung's look, without embarrassment or response, simply waiting until he had seen her. He saw that it was true there was not beauty of any kind in her face - a brown, common, patient face. But there were no pock-marks on her dark skin, nor was her lip split. In her ears he saw his rings hanging, the gold-washed rings he had bought, and on her hands were the rings he had given her. He turned away with secret exultation. Well, he had his woman! — Pearl S. Buck

This is often the way one moves into the future. For what you begin to see, there is no ready language. If you were to remain silent, listen, perhaps in response you might be able to move in a new way. Glide into it slowly, aware of every slight difference, skin and cells intelligent, reading. But trained as you are in certain regimens, chances are you proceed directly according to the old patterns, trying again what was tried before. — Susan Griffin

Our faces turned upwards, together we scanned the heavens, finding them stacked with tiers of bright stars.

Remarked to Whittier: It almost seems that each star is a hole, through which we might vanish into other dark heavens.

Whittier remained silent. Whole night seemed to wait for his response, and while I also waited, was taken with a sudden suspicion that our blue sky, that seems so solid during the day, might be in fact riddled with piercings, and rendered therefore exceeding fragile. As if the great dome above us might be nothing more than a swathe of soft linen, billowing up with the wind. — Louisa Hall