Wordlessness Quotes

Sadness of not knowing enough words to [express what you mean].

Words are made for a certain exactness of thought, as tears are for a certain degree of pain. What is least distinct cannot be named; what is clearest is unutterable.

It was enough just to sit there without words.

Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.

I just didn't have anything to say, so I said nothing.

Silence propagates itself, and the longer talk has been suspended, the more difficult it is to find anything to say.

Yes, time can be buoyed by wordlessness, but it needs to be anchored in words.

The experiences and feelings I have are starting to outweigh the words available to explain them.

Yes, the highest things are beyond words. That is probably why all art aspires to the condition of wordlessness. When literature works on you, it does so in silence, in your dreams, in your wordless moments. Good words enter you and become moods, become the quiet fabric of your being. Like music, like painting, literature too wants to transcend its primary condition and become something higher. Art wants to move into silence, into the emotional and spiritual conditions of the world. Statues become melodies, melodies become yearnings, yearnings become actions.

The craft or art of writing is the clumsy attempt to find symbols for the wordlessness.

I like fish," chirruped Tunstell. "Really, Mr. Tunstell? What is your preferred breed?" "Well"--Tunstell hesitated--"you know, the um, ones that"--he made a swooping motion with both hands--"uh, swim.

The wrong words are impossible when there are no words.

Sometimes no length of string is long enough to say the thing that needs to be said. In such cases all the string can do, in whatever its form, is conduct a person's silence.

Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them.

We looked at each other for the last time; nothing is as eloquent as nothing.

Such words as 'God' and 'Death' and 'Suffering' and 'Eternity' are best forgotten. We have to become as simple and as wordless as the growing corn or the falling rain. We must just be.

Do I really have to find a word for it? Can't it just be what it is?

I can't put into words what I think about anything.

Our language needs endless synonyms for beautiful; the eyes could see what the tongue cannot possibly describe.

It was always easier for me to show love than to say it. The word reminded me of pralines: small, precious, almost unbearable sweet. I would light up in his presence; I felt like a sun in the constellation of his embrace. But trying to put what I felt for him into words diminished it somehow, like pinning a butterfly under glass, or videotaping a comet.

Sometimes you just don't know what to say.

Words were useless. At times, they might sound wonderful, but they let you down the moment you really needed them. You could never find the right words, never, and where would you look for them? The heart is as silent as a fish, however much the tongue tries to give it a voice.

What shall I say to you? What can I say Better than silence is?

I've got nothing to say most of the time.

Articulate words are a harsh clamor and dissonance. When man arrives at his highest perfection, he will again be dumb.