“All those layers of silence upon silence.” - Donna Tartt
Donna Tartt's quote "All those layers of silence upon silence" suggests the presence of deeper, unspoken truths lying beneath the surface. Silence can be a powerful force that conceals emotions, thoughts, and sentiments that may go unsaid. The use of "layers" in the quote implies complexity and depth, indicating that there may be multiple levels of silence that need to be unravelled to understand the full extent of a situation or emotion. Overall, Tartt's quote highlights the significance of what remains unspoken and the complexity that lies within silence.
In today's fast-paced and interconnected world, the concept of silence can be interpreted in various ways. Donna Tartt's quote, "All those layers of silence upon silence," resonates with the complexity of communication in the modern age. Let's delve into the modern relevance of this profound statement.
Reflecting on Donna Tartt's quote, consider the layers of silence in your own life. - What experiences or emotions have been buried beneath layers of silence? - How have these layers of silence impacted your relationships and communication with others? - In what ways can you start peeling back these layers of silence to promote more honesty and vulnerability in your life? - Have you ever felt the weight of these layers of silence and, if so, how did you overcome them?
“And as we leave Donne and Walton on the shores of Metahemeralism, we wave a fond farewell to those famous chums of yore.”
“Upon meeting Julian Morrow, one has the impression that he is a man of extraordinary sympathy and warmth. But what you call his 'Asiatic serenity' is, I think, a mask for great coldness. The face one shows him he invariably reflects back at one, creating the illusion of warmth and depth when in fact he is brittle and shallow as a mirror.”
“I wrote these letters in the mornings before work, in the library, during my sessions of prolonged loitering in Commons, where I remained every evening until asked to leave by the janitor. It seemed my whole life was composed of these disjointed fractions of time, hanging around in one public place and then another, as if I were waiting for trains that never came. And, like one of those ghosts who are said to linger around depots late at night, asking passersby for the timetable of the Midnight Express that derailed twenty years before, I wandered from light to light until that dreaded hour when all the doors closed and, stepping from the world of warmth and people and conversation overheard, I felt the old familiar cold twist through my bones again and then it was all forgotten, the warmth, the lights; I had never been warm in my life, ever.”
“It is easy to see things in retrospect. But I was ignorant then of everything but my own happiness, and I don’t know what else to say except that life itself seemed very magical in those days: a web of symbol, coincidence, premonition, omen. Everything, somehow, fit together; some sly and benevolent Providence was revealing itself by degrees and I felt myself trembling on the brink of a fabulous discovery, as though any morning it was all going to come together–my future, my past, the whole of my life–and I was going to sit up in bed like a thunderbolt and say oh! oh! oh!”
“It's funny, but thinking back on it now, I realize that this particular point in time, as I stood there blinking in the deserted hall, was the one point at which I might have chosen to do something very much different from what I actually did. But of course I didn't see this crucial moment for what it actually was; I suppose we never do. Instead, I only yawned, and shook myself from the momentary daze that had come upon me, and went on my way down the stairs.”
“I suppose the shock of recognition is one of the nastiest shocks of all.”