“Then I felt up silence. Then silence and I went all the way.”
“I went upstairs to my room. Momentarily I felt a sense of calm, almost acceptance. Rest beyond the river. I knew now what that meant. It meant Nothing. It meant only silence forever.”
“Reading was what I needed to beat back all that noise and silence, those horrible silences. . . .An ink pen was the only way to carve a voice out of the air and have others hear it.”
“Silence didn't bother me, it was actually where I felt most comfortable—in the things that didn't need to be spoken—but this was a very pregnant silence that was starting to give me labor pains.”
“I heard silence, silence infinite as the bottom of the ocean, a silence that sealed.”
“Silence. I hate silence. Silence means thinking and thinking means judgement.”