Silence

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much.

Fools live to regret their words, wise men to regret their silence.

Joe: You used to be in silent pictures. You used to be big. Norma (bristling): I am big. It's the pictures that got small. Joe: I knew there was something wrong with them.

The most silent people are generally those who think most highly of themselves.

Most men remember obligations, but not often to be grateful; the proud are made sour by the remembrance and the vain silent.

So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan which moves To that mysterious realm where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one that wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

Speech after long silence; it is right, All other lovers being estranged or dead . . . That we descant and yet again descant Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song: Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young We loved each other and were ignorant.

Like a long-legged fly upon the stream His mind moves upon silence.

The Moon like a flower In heaven's high bower, With silent delight, Sits and smiles on the night.

Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks: He withers all in silence, and his hand Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.