Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Quotes

...the sound of our lack of conversation amplified by the echo of our footsteps on the stone around us.

echo, the death of a sound that had nowhere to go but to come back.

When friends and lovers die and your world gets quieter; that's when the silence comes closer; that's when next isn't the least bit theoretical or abstract.

There was a time when the music fell silent. Both within me and around me.

A great silence has fallen upon the real soul of this nation.

If the room falls silent for a moment, all I hear is white noise.

Yes, my mother's death is a terrible sorrow to me. I feel - do you know what I mean - the silence of it so. She was more alive than anyone I have ever known.

This self now as I leant over the gate looking down over fields rolling in waves of colour beneath me made no answer. He threw up no opposition. He attempted no phrase. His fist did not form. I waited. I listened. Nothing came, nothing. I cried then with a sudden conviction of complete desertion. Now there is nothing. No fin breaks the waste of this immeasurable sea. Life has destroyed me. No echo comes when I speak, no varied words. This is more truly death than the death of friends, than the death of youth.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" — Merely this, and nothing more

Parent of sweetest sounds, yet mute forever.

No one will grieve because your lips are dumb.

Tears could not be equal, if I wept diamonds from the skies," Jenks whispered, empty and bereft. "My word silent, though I should howl. Muffled by death, my wings can't lift me high enough to find you. I feel you within. Unaware of my pain. Not knowing why I mourn. And why I breathe alone.

The thing that I love, especially after sound check, is when I'm in that stadium alone. It's complete silence. I love that.

Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains, And feeds her grief.

In every sound, the hidden silence sleeps.

Sometimes silence can seem so loud.

There is a music for lonely hearts nearly always. If the music dies down there is a silence. Almost the same as the movement of music. To know silence perfectly is to know music.

...the air so still it aches like the place where the tooth was on the morning after you’ve been to the dentist or aches like your heart in the bosom when you stand on the street corner waiting for the light to change and happen to recollect how things once were and how they might have been yet if what happened had not happened.

If you like music you like silence actually.

Silence, I discover, is something you can actually hear.

Seeing her sitting there unresponsive makes me realize that silence has a sound.

It was the same way with silence. This was more than silence. A deaf person can feel vibrations. Here there was nothing to feel.

And all that we built, and all that we breathed And all that we spilled or pulled up like weeds Is piled up in back and it burns irrevocably And we spoke up in turns 'til the silence crept over me.