Why So Silent Quotes & Sayings

Margaux looks around the table; this is not working. All of a sudden she's thinking about a safe room, something she's only heard of but suddenly wants: water, oxygen, bulletproof door, dead bolts, a thousand books. Utterly quiet. Completely silent. No girls she barely knows in saggy leather pants, no girls in mesh strippers' gloves and jeans sanded thin as a bee's wing, and no girls who can't stay home one night a year because they are always and forever out. On their way to. Coming from.
And then her heart open. Just a little, but it does. Because she remembers all that. How she felt then: the self-reproach, the utter confusion ... That's why her heart opens. For those girls at the table who always feel baffled and sad, tender and malign, repulsive and desirable, innocent and contemptuous of innocence.
So she cries. For them, mostly. For herself a little ... everything hesitates. So that for a second there's no sound in the enormous room but that of Margaux sobbing. — Ron Koertge

You're not others."
"No?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I love you."
Astrid was silent for so long, Sam thought he must have upset her. Yet she never loosened her hold on him, never pulled away but kept her face buried in his neck. He felt her warm tears on his skin. And at last she said, "I love you, too. — Michael Grant

My main goal is to stay alive. To keep fooling myself into hanging around. To keep getting up every day. Right now I live without inspiration. I go day to day and do the work because it's all I know. I know that if I keep moving I stand a chance. I must keep myself going until I find a reason to live. I need one so bad. On the other hand maybe I don't. Maybe it's all bullshit. Nothing I knew from my old life can help me here. Most of the things that I believed turned out to be useless. Appendages from someone else's life.
Everything I have I would give to not know what I know. To not feel emptiness as my constant companion. To not look into this room and be reminded why I'm in it. I'm not getting enough air. The room feels so small all of a sudden. It's pathetic to be this lonely and know it. To keep breathing. To be silent and alone. And to know. — Henry Rollins

Abandoned.
The word alone sends shudders down a sensitive spine, troubling the thoughts of pained souls as their hurt swells in ripples. It is a sentence of undesired solitude often pronounced on the innocent, the trusting - administered without warning or satisfactory cause.
One day the moon is yours, or so you believe. The next, his countenance transforms from Jekyll to Hyde with no intention of ever turning back, and you are left trampled upon in a deserted street, concealed by dirty fog that squelches all illumination or any hope for future rays of light.
It is the worst of mysteries why a beast considered noble would forsake his duty, exhibiting a heart of stone. And all who once looked on him, now turn down their eyes and suffer, beguiled.
Some poisons have no antidote, but are slow, silent, torturous ends that curl up the broken body swept into a cold, dark corner. There she is left to drown in her tears - a dying heart.
Abandoned. — Richelle E. Goodrich

The thing Tedros liked about girls is that they always started the conversation. Most of the time, his job was just to listen, ask questions, and try to understand what in God's name was going on in their complicated little heads. He rarely had any idea what girls were talking about or why they made everything so torturous in their logic, so playing the role of the strong, silent type usually gave him time to catch up. — Soman Chainani

Remember that, in any encounter, the only thing you can control is your own actions and reactions. You cannot dictate the actions of the other person, or in this case, the horse, but you can often send the right signals to get what you want. If you are often baffled by the reactions others have to you, it is probably because you are unaware of the silent signals you send through your posture, your facial gestures, your tone of voice, the amount of personal space you maintain, and so forth. Ever wondered why people don't listen when you try to assert yourself, or why people back away when you're trying to be friendly, or why you're never the one people seek out in a crowded room? Body language. Silent signals. Mixed signals. The trick is to focus outward, not inward. — Lisa Wingate

Why was even the shallowest human conversation so fraught with pitfalls and tricky calibrations? Why couldn't people just keep silent until they had something essential to say, like the Oasans? — Michel Faber

I will say one thing about those males, there is never a dull moment." Peri suddenly appeared causing everyone to jump.
"Bloody hell," Jen barked.
"Couldn't you send out some sort of signal that you're about to appear out of thin air?" Lilly asked.
"What do you expect me to do ... fart just before I appear so the smell alerts you?" Peri took a seat next to Alina and crossed her legs, appearing regal despite her crude words.
"Why do you say we would be alerted by the smell, rather than the sound?" Sally asked.
Peri smiled. "I think you humans call them silent but deadly. — Quinn Loftis

Goed morgen, fentomen!" a deckhand shouts to them as he passes by, his arms full of rope. All the ship's crew call them fentomen. It is the Kerch word for ghosts. When the girl asks the quartermaster why, he laughs and says it's because they are so pale and because of the way they stand silent at the ship's railing, staring at the sea for hours, as if they've never seen water before. She smiles and does not tell him the truth: that they must keep their eyes on the horizon. They are watching for a ship with black sails. Baghra's — Leigh Bardugo

The world had ended, so why had the battle not ceased, the castle fallen silent in horror, and every combatant laid down their arms? Harry's mind was in freefall, spinning out of control, unable to grasp the impossiblity, because Fred Weasley could not be dead, the evidence of all his senses must be lying - — J.K. Rowling

She didn't have any intention of crying. The tears caught her by surprise. She knew she was behaving like a child, that she was being terribly foolish and emotional, but she didn't know how to stop herself.
"Judith?" His thumb brushed away one of the tears on her cheek. "Tell me why you're crying."
"There weren't any flowers. Iain, there should have been flowers."
Her voice had been so soft, he wasn't certain he understood her. "Flowers?" he asked.
"Where weren't there any flowers?"
He waited for her to explain, but she stubbornly remained silent. He squeezed her.
"In the chapel."
"What chapel?"
"The one you don't have," she answered. — Julie Garwood

The mystery is why the right is now where the real energy is in US political life. Is this the really maddening question for anyone else sitting out here watching it all? Why is conservatism so hot right now? What accounts for its populist draw? It can't just be 9/11; it predates 9/11. But since just when has the right been so energized? Has there really been some reactionary Silent Majority out there for decades, frustrated but atomized, waiting for an inciting spark? If so, was Ronald Reagan that spark? But there wasn't this kind of right-wing populist verve to the Reagan eighties. Did it start with Gingrich's rise to Speaker, or with the intoxicating hatred of all things Clinton? Or has the country as a whole just somehow moved so far right that hard-core conservatism now feeds, stormlike, on the hot vortical energy of the mainstream? — David Foster Wallace

bees and elephants and dogs piled up in squirmin' mounds like Loma's dang cats tryin' to keep warm in the wintertime. Does all this make any sense, Will Tweedy?" "Yessir, Grandpa." I wanted to go lay down. But I also wanted some more answers. "Grandpa, uh, why you think Jesus said ast the Lord for anything you want and you'll get it? 'Ast and it shall be given,' the Bible says. But it ain't so." I felt blasphemous even to think it, much less say it out loud. Grandpa was silent a long time. "Maybe Jesus was talkin' in His sleep, son, or folks heard Him wrong. Or maybe them disciples tryin' to start a church thought everbody would join up if'n they said Jesus Christ would give the Garden a-Eden to anybody believed He was the son a-God and like thet." Grandpa laughed. Gosh, I'd get a whipping if Papa knew what was going on with the Word in his kitchen. "All I know," he added, "is thet folks pray for food and still go hungry, and — Olive Ann Burns

And at last Finnikin understood why he had felt so sorrowful and silent these last few days. He knew how to be Finnikin of the Rock to Evanjalin of the Monts. But he had no idea who to be to Queen Isaboe. — Melina Marchetta

I cleared my throat and began my presentation. As I moved through the different aspects of the proposal, he stayed silent, staring directly at his copy. Why was he so calm? His temper tantrums I could handle. But the eerie silence? It was unnerving.

I was leaning over the table, gesturing toward a set of graphs, when it happened.

"Their timeline for the first milestone is a little ambi-" I stopped midsentence, my breath caught in my throat. His hand pressed gently into my lower back before sliding down, settling on the curve of my ass. In the nine months I had worked for him, he had never intentionally touched me.

This was most definitely intentional. — Christina Lauren

Why do you ask?"
"Because I can."
"You can what?"
"I can go in the private collection!" I scurried toward him. "My father had a lifetime subscriptioin, Mr. Sheridan, and not just that, but he had special privileges. I'm certain I could use his name to get you into the private collection."
Daniel's jaw fell. "Why didn't you say so before?"
"What?" I recoiled. "How was I supposed to know you needed it?"
"We could've gone ages ago!"
My enthusiasm transformed into outrage. "In that case, why didn't you say you needed it?"
"Because I didn't know you had a subscription!"
"Aha!" I cried, thrusting a finger at him. "Your argument's a circle!"
Daniel sprang up. "We wasted all this time-"
"Silence!" Joseph roared. "You are like squawking parrots, and I have had quite enough. Miss Fitt, I would ask that you take Mr. Sheridan to the library immediately. Daniel, I would ask that you keep that big mouth of yours silent. — Susan Dennard

The world is hard and cruel. We are here none knows why, and we go none knows whither. We must be very humble. We must see the beauty of quietness. We must go through life so inconspicuously that Fate does not notice us. And let us seek the love of simple, ignorant people. Their ignorance is better than all our knowledge. Let us be silent, content in our little corner, meek and gentle like them. That is the wisdom of life. — W. Somerset Maugham

A tear slipped from eye, as I stood helpless beside Kiran. "They have done nothing wrong, except fight for the freedom you have stolen from them, from all of us!" I shouted back, unable to stay silent when my friends stood at his mercy.
"I give you freedom, the freedom to live your life as you please," Lucan challenged, tilting his chin with pride and sincerity. "I ask nothing of you, except for your loyalty. I am the king, it is the least of what I deserve," Lucan turned to address the kingdom, his argument ringing through the air.
"Then why is it only your bloodline that is allowed immortality?" I argued, taking a step forward. "Why do the rest of our people suffer from the separation of races? Why are the Shape-shifters exiled by penalty of death? What have they done? What is their crime? Are you afraid to share true immortality? Are you so scared of a people that realize they don't need a king?" I turned to face the crowd too, hoping to empower them with my words. — Rachel Higginson

Or ... maybe I'm not going crazy. "Maybe I'm some sort of android-cyborg-clone-thing, and I'm just breaking down.
I'm not sure which way is worse.
Dad laughs. "You're not in your right mind, dear," he says. "No, no, no, you're not."
And then
- Silence.
Dad fades away. The reverie chair disappears.
There's just blackness. I remember then that I am in the reverie of something dead. Whatever that thing was, it was dead.
And, just as I'm starting to wonder if, perhaps, I have died, too, I see a light, far away in the corner of the dreamscape. The light isn't soft; it's not glowing. It crackles like silent lightning, burning with electricity, sparks flying out and fizzling in the dark.
I don't know why - it makes no sense, the way dreams often don't - but I want to touch the light.
So I do. — Beth Revis

His instincts told him he should stay the hell away from her. That he was on a road paved to hell, but he couldn't stay away. He'd watched her every night for a month, played a silent game with her of pretending the other didn't exist, and it never worked. He wanted to know the secret behind her eyes. He wanted to know why she carried a gun at night, ordered a glass of Johnny Walker Blue she never drank, and why she carried so much pain inside. — Nina D'Angelo

The futility of everything that comes to us from the media is the inescapable consequence of the absolute inability of that particular stage to remain silent. Music, commercial breaks, news flashes, adverts, news broadcasts, movies, presenters - there is no alternative but to fill the screen; otherwise there would be an irremediable void ... That's why the slightest technical hitch, the slightest slip on the part of the presenter becomes so exciting, for it reveals the depth of the emptiness squinting out at us through this little window. — Jean Baudrillard

We have to ask ourselves why we are so focused on silent girly-girls in G-strings faking lust. This is not a sign of progress, it's a testament to what's still missing from our understanding of human sexuality with all its complexity and power. We are still so uneasy with the vicissitudes of sex we need to surround ourselves with caricatures of female hotness to safely conjure up the concept of 'sexy.' When you think about it, it's kind of pathetic. — Ariel Levy

She stared up at him for a long while, silent, her expression blank. Then, slowly, she walked to the wet bar and poured herself a drink.
He followed her, willing to tie her down and force her to listen to him. "I don't know why she's here or how - "
Splash.
He blinked, wiped a hand down his dripping face, and realized she'd just tossed her drink at him.
"Oh, Dane! You should see your face," she said with a hearty laugh, shocking him. "And seriously, that was so freaking fun. I don't know whether I should thank you for the opportunity to check another item off my list, or do it again. — Gena Showalter

Why does this person, who doesn't even speak our language, care so much about us that he is willing to risk his life for us? It moved us both to tears. I said a silent prayer of thanks as we became a part of the night. — Yeonmi Park

Our Cross
Our little circle hides in the mind,
It's difficult to miss but hard to find,
It goes unspoken but yet it speaks,
From backward years to forward weeks,
We can't forget but why even try,
Two of a kind doesn't know goodbye,
It's a silent question that God won't share,
A breeze we feel but seems unfair,
Distant, rare but only madness can see,
It's something deeper than any infinity,
Because we walk this parallel path up and down,
There is no circle to hold us circus clowns,
So let's give it a symbol and label it a loss,
We will remember it always as we carry our cross. — Shannon L. Alder

The blood cyst works kind of like a whip, doesn't it?" I asked. "For the sheep to manipulate the host." "Exactly. Once that forms, there's no escaping the sheep." "So what on earth was the Boss after, doing what he was doing?" "He went mad. He probably couldn't take the heat of that blast furnace. The sheep used him to build up a supreme power base. That's why the sheep entered him. He was, in a word, disposable. The man was zero as a thinker, after all." "So when the Boss died, you were earmarked to take over that power base." "I'm afraid so." "And what lay ahead after that?" "A realm of total conceptual anarchy. A scheme in which all opposites would be resolved into unity. With me and the sheep at the center." "So why did you reject it?" Time trailed off into death. And over this dead time, a silent snow was falling. "I guess I felt attached to my — Haruki Murakami

If you're all so peaceful up there, how did you get such greedy and cruel ideas?"
The dragon was silent for a long time after this question. And at last he said: "It just came over me. I don't know why. It just came over me, listening to the battling shouts and the war-cries of the earth - I got excited, I wanted to join in. — Ted Hughes

My least favorite form of street harassment is when a guy asks why I'm not smiling. It's related to that: Women aren't allowed to be quiet or stoic or shy - or, hell, just in a bad mood - without being criticized. Women are bitchy and frigid if we don't seem accessible at all times, for the most part to men. We're supposed to be perpetually friendly. Who wants to live up to that? And seriously, when was the last time you heard a quiet woman described as "deep"?
Men who are serious are just that - serious. Think laconic cowboys and Clint Eastwood-style movie heroes. Strong and silent is a desirable personality trait for men - women, not so much. Because where silence in men is seen as strength, silence in women (if not seen as bitchy) is seen as weakness - she's shy, a wallflower. — Jessica Valenti

Consider the cattle, grazing as they pass you by. They do not know what is meant by yesterday or today, they leap about, eat, rest, digest, leap about again, and so from morn till night and from day to day, fettered to the moment and its pleasure or displeasure, and thus neither melancholy nor bored. [ ... ] A human being may well ask an animal: 'Why do you not speak to me of your happiness but only stand and gaze at me?' The animal would like to answer, and say, 'The reason is I always forget what I was going to say' - but then he forgot this answer too, and stayed silent. — Friedrich Nietzsche

It was not mine to tell. He asked for my word I would keep silent."

"I think you might have broken it upon this occasion," Plum returned hotly.

"Then I think you know me not at all," Brisbane countered, his tone deceptively bland. He would put up with Plum's barbs only so long before he took the quarrel further, and that was not an eventuality I cared to see. "Calm yourself, Plum. If I am not upset, you have no call to be." I turned to Brisbane. "I understand why you did not tell me. You are a man of your word. And you know precisely when it is necessary to break it. This was not that time." The look he gave me was mingled gratitude and promise of a significant dose of his attentions later. I shivered a little as Portia entered. — Deanna Raybourn

We stood silent. After a moment I said, "Real Geniuses never think they're geniuses."
"Who says?"
"Me."
"Because why?"
"Because genius is nine-tenths perspiration. Haven't you ever heard that? As soon as you think you're a genius, you slack off. You think everything you do is so great and everything. — Jeffrey Eugenides

That's why travel is so important, among other reasons: to get far enough away from our everyday lives to see those lives with new clarity. When you're literally on the other side of the world, when you're under the silent sea, watching a bright, silent world of fish and coral, when you're staring up at a sky so bright and dense with stars it makes you gasp, it's in those moments that you begin to see the fullness of your life, the possibility that still prevails, that always prevails. — Shauna Niequist

In fact, we are most in agreement when we are silent with each other, because then our assumptions about how we are in agreement are able to fully unfurl themselves, but all it takes is someone breaking that silence and stating the contents of their mind, for the assumption of our shared reality to completely collapse upon us. Because it turns out, you know, I think it's one way, you think it's another, I believe we're doing X, you think we're doing Y, I think we're serving so and so, and you think we're serving somebody else. And this is why I think great relationships are built in silence, because then nobody ever finds out what's really going on. — Terence McKenna

In human closeness there is a secret edge,
Nor love nor passion can pass it above,
Let lips with lips be joined in silent rage,
And hearts be burst asunder with the love.
And friendship, too, is powerless plot,
And so years of bliss with noble tends,
When your heart is free and known not,
The slow languor of the earthy sense.
And they who strive to reach this edge are mad,
But they who reached are shocked with anguish hard -
Now you know why beneath your hand
You do not feel the beating of my heart. — Anna Akhmatova

Wyatt was, in fact, finding the Christian system suspect. Memory of his fourth birthday party still weighted in his mind. It had been planned cautiously by Aunt May, to the exact number of hats and favors and portions of cake. One guest, no friend to Wyatt (from a family "less fortunate than we are"), showed up with a staunchly party-bent brother. (Not only no friend: a week before he had challenged Wyatt through the fence behind the carriage barn with - Nyaa nyaa, suckinyerma's ti-it-ty ... ) Wyatt was taken to a dark corner, where he later reckoned all Good works were conceived, and told that it was the Christian thing to surrender his portion. So he entered his fifth year hatless among crepe-paper festoons, silent amid snapping crackers, empty of Christian love for the uninvited who asked him why he wasn't having any cake. — William Gaddis

I keep thinking it's going to come back when I least expect it. When I'm at my happiest. So I'm always afraid to be happy."
Zane looks out at the horizon. "You know, there are so many things that can go wrong in this world, you could spend your whole life worrying about them and forget to appreciate every moment you have with someone. Then, you're like, 'God, why wasn't I thankful for what I had when I had it?'" He glances over at me. "You know what the secret to a happy life is?" I shake my head, silent tears falling down my cheeks.
He squeezes my hand. "No regrets. Just live in the moment. — Nicole Christie

Here is an oral tradition, legends passed from mouth to mouth, a communal myth created invariably at the base of the mango tree in the evening's profound darkness, in which only the trembling voices of old men resound, because the women and children are silent, raptly listening. That is why the evening hour is so important: it is the time when the community contemplates what it is and whence it came. — Ryszard Kapuscinski

I did what I thought was best.'
And so you kidnapped me,' she said bitterly.
'If you recall I offered you the option of residing with my relatives. You refused.'
'I want to be independent.'
'One doesn't have to be alone to be independent.'
Victoria couldn't think of a suitable rebuttal to that statement, so she remained silent.
'When I marry you,' Robert said softly, 'I want it to be a partnership in every sense of the word. I want to consult you on matters of land management and tenant care. I want us to decide together how to raise our children. I don't know why you are so certain that loving me means losing yourself. — Julia Quinn

And Olvos said to them: "Why have you done this, my children? Why is the sky wreathed with smoke? Why have you made war in far places, and shed blood in strange lands?
And they said to Her: "You blessed us as Your people, and we rejoiced, and were happy. But we found those who were not Your people, and they would not become Your people, and they were willful and ignorant of You. They would not open their ears to Your songs, or lay Your words upon their tongues. So we dashed them upon the rocks and threw down their houses and shed their blood and scattered them to the winds, and we were right to do so. For we are Your people. We carry Your blessings. We are Yours, and so we are right. Is this not what You said?"
And Olvos was silent. — Robert Jackson Bennett

There were many reasons why I chose to stay silent about my past for so long, mostly fear and shame. Now im older and wiser.Now I understand that I should never have to live in fear of another human being, and if I do, that's their shame, not mine. — Gabriella Gillespie

want you, it's their loss," Grandma said. "Why don't we just wait and see what they say?" Ms. Donatello told me. "I have to go to the bathroom," Georgia said. I didn't want to talk anymore, so I just made like Leonardo the Silent and kept my mouth shut after that. Finally, the office door opened, and Mr. Crawley, the director of the school, came over to talk to us. I tried not to look like I wanted to disappear. Or self-destruct. Or both. "First of all, Rafe," he said, "you should know there are three things we look for in an applicant. One of those is experience. A lot of the students at Cathedral have been studying art since before they could write." "Sure," I said. "I get it. No problem." But he wasn't done yet. "The other two things we look for are talent and persistence," he said. "Not only is that portfolio of yours full of artistic promise, it's also just full. When I see that, I see a boy who would probably keep drawing whether anyone was paying attention or not. — James Patterson

Why aren't you excited?' Nelly asked.
'No reasons. Balls just aren't my idea of fun.'
'Why, you don't want to meet your prince charming?'
Ginny looked up. 'Because though I may meet my prince charming, it won't matter. My prince charming has already been decided for me, whether my heart agrees or not.'
Nelly fell silent, pondering what Ginny had said. 'It's about Christian, is it not?'
'Yes Nelly, it is.'
'Well who cares about Christian? Tonight is the night to have fun, to be free!Tonight is about Ginny, not Christian. Don't let Christian ruin your evening! Dance with as many boys as possible, lose your heart more than once, why, so you have stories to tell! Christian, for tonight at least, doesn't exist. Remember that. It takes two to dance a waltz. — Darby Browne

I became an actress way into my 30s because I thought that I had to find my own way, and that's why I worked so much in modelling, until I realised that the differences between acting and modelling weren't that great. I always say that modelling is a little bit like being a silent actress. — Isabella Rossellini

It was a clear, moonlit night a little after the tenth of the Eighth Month. Her Majesty, who was residing in the Empress's Office, sat by the edge of the veranda while Ukon no Naishi played the flute for her. The other ladies in attendance sat together, talking and laughing; but I stayed by myself, leaning against one of the pillars between the main hall and the veranda.
'Why so silent?' said Her Majesty. 'Say something. It is sad when you do not speak.'
'I am gazing at the autumn moon,' I replied.
'Ah yes,' she remarked. 'That is just what you should have said. — Sei Shonagon

Yet they sense that something is wrong. They can't quite put their finger on the problem. As time passes, they grow more and more dependent on each other; they are getting older; any opportunities to make a new life are vanishing fast. They try to keep busy doing reading or embroidery, watching television, seeing friends, but there is always the conversation over supper or after supper. He is easily irritated, she is more silent than usual. They can see that they are growing further and further apart, but cannot understand why. They reach the conclusion that this is what marriage is like, but won't talk to their friends about it; they are the image of the happy couple who support each other and share the same interests. She takes a lover, so does he, but it's never anything serious, of course. What is important, necessary, essential, is to act as if nothing is happening, because it's too late to change. — Paulo Coelho

He has a funny look in his eyes as if to say, "Come off it, Shiva, I know what you are up to, I know what you are doing." And you say, "What, me?" So he looks at you in this funny way until finally you get the feeling that he sees all the way through you; and that all your selfishness and evil, nasty thoughts are transparent to his gaze. Then you have to try and alter them. He suggests that you practice the control of the mind, that you become interiorly silent, and that you give up selfish desires of the skin-encapsulated self. Then you may have some success in quieting your mind and in concentrating. But after that, he will throw a curve at you, which is: Are you not still desiring not to desire? Why are you trying to be unselfish? Well, the answer is, "I want to be on the side of the big battalions. I think it is going to pay off better to be unselfish than to be selfish. — Alan W. Watts

Xas sighed. "But I don't want to talk about God. Why do I? Sometimes I feel God is all over me like a pollen and I go about pollinating things with God."
Sobran opened his eyes and Xas smiled at him. Soban said, "I did think that you talked about God to persuade me you weren't evil. But I've decided that, for you, everything is somehow to the glory of God, whether you like it or not."
"I feel that, yes. My imagination was first formed in God's glory. But I think God didn't make the world, so I think my feelings are mistaken."
This was the heresy for which Xas was thrown out of Heaven. Sobran was happy it had finally appeared. It was like a clearing. Sobran could almost see this clearing - a silent, sunny, green space into which not a thing was falling, not even the call of a cuckoo. Xas thought the world was like this, an empty clearing into which God had wandered. — Elizabeth Knox

Why do you want to do this?" he asked curiously. "Why is this woman so important to you?"
Saint-Germain blinked in surprise. "Have you ever loved anyone?" he asked.
"Yes," Tamnuz said cautiously, "I had a consort once, Inanna ... "
"But did you love her? Truly love her?"
The Green Man remained silent.
"Did she mean more to you than life itself?" Saint-Germain persisted.
"They do not love that do not show their love," Shakespeare murmured very softly.
The French immortal stepped closer to the Elder. "I love my Jeanne," he said simply. "I must go to her."
"Even though it will cost you everything?" Tamnuz persisted, as if the idea was incomprehensible.
"Yes. Without Joan, everything I have is worthless."
"Even your immortality?"
"Especially my immortality." Gone were the banter and the jokes. This was a Saint-Germain whom neither Shakespeare nor Palamedes had ever seen before. "I love her," he said, — Michael Scott

Why is it that we want so badly to memorialise ourselves? Even while we're still alive. we wish to assert our existence, like dogs peeing on fire hydrants. we put on display our framed photographs, our parchment diplomas, our silver-plated cups; we monogram our linen, we carve our names on trees, we scrawl them on washroom walls. It's all the same impulse. what do we hope from it? Applause, envy, respect? Or simply attention, of any kind we can get? At the very least we want a witness. we can't stand the idea of our own voices falling silent finally, like a radio turning down. — Margaret Atwood

I had just prayed, Oh God, please help me! I want to serve you, but I don't know how. I don't know what to do? ------ "WRITE A BOOK!" I was in shock. So, I stood silent, in wonderment. I was surprised that I had received an answer to my prayer. I didn't really expect to hear from God. Why should I? I was nobody, only a little dot on the earth. Why should the Great God of the universe speak to me? — Helen Goldie

First of all, I had the desire for that format [silent movie], and then when I was talking to people, I felt that people needed justification. Why are you doing a silent movie? Is it just for your own pleasure? I felt it was not enough for them so I realized I have to choose the subject that will make things easier for them and to tell the story of a silent actor makes sense for doing a silent movie. — Michel Hazanavicius

Yet you cannot let go. Why? I can let go. I can let you drop so easily. That is because I do not see you as a person but rather an appliance that I switch on and off. I don't need you for two months so I switch you off and put you away. You do not trouble my consciousness. Not once. So when I have subjected you to another bout of silent treatment and you are sat weeping into your glass of pinot grigio wondering aloud if I am thinking about you, I can help you with that. No I am not. You no longer exist to me. You never existed. — H.G. Tudor

When Kai fell silent, she risked a glance at him. He was staring at her hands [which she always holds mechanic gloves over to hide her ... you know, cyborg hands] ...
"Do you ever take those off?" he asked.
"No."
Kai tilted his head, peering at her as if he could see right through to the metal plate in her head ... "I think you should go to the ball with me."
She clutched her fingers ... "Stars," she muttered. "Didn't you already asked me that?"
"I'm hoping for a more favorable answer this time and I seem to be getting more desperate by the minute."
"How charming."
Kai's lips twitched. "Please?"
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"I mean, why me?"
Kai hooked his thumbs on his pockets. "So if my escape hover breaks down, I'll have someone to fix it? — Marissa Meyer

What are we so afraid of? Why don't we let 'em tell us we're afraid? What is it they're afraid of?" She picked up the stocking she had been darning, turned it in her hands, was silent awhile; finally she said, "What are they afraid of us for? — Ursula K. Le Guin

I have things to tell you, but I don't think there's any point. It's like you took a can opener and peeled the lid off my heart and leaped out the day Will died. Why are you so silent? Of all times to leave me alone. — Jenny B. Jones

Why are you so hard on yourself?
I love you just the way you are,
with your withered coat and wet scarf dangling like a spotless chandelier.
The snow banks in Montreal are high, but I can see your trace, and silent grace and tin cup through the paned window.
The precipitation melts your face, distorting your expression through the aged glass; broken, when I threw ancient stones to get your attention
as a child.
I wanted a friend. The honest kind. — V.S. Atbay