Silence (n.) is a tragedy not when there is a misunderstanding about words, but when silence is not understood.
Silence (n.) is the most difficult thing to understand during conversation.
Silence (n.) is the universal refuge, the sequel to all dull discourses and all foolish acts, a balm to our every chagrin, as welcome after satiety as after disappointment.
Silence (n.) is most insightful — the men most of us meet is not often so instructive as the silence they break.
Silence (n.) is the ambrosial night in the intercourse of Friends, in which their sincerity is recruited and takes deeper root.
Silence (n.) is audible to all men, at all times, and in all places.
Silence (n.) is where the most excellent speech finally falls, as the truest society approaches always nearer to solitude.