Dead silence is so much more foreign to me than people screaming at me, good or bad.
It's very important in life to know when to shut up. You should not be afraid of silence.
Lilliet Berne, La Generale, newly returned to Paris after a year spent away, the Falcon soprano whose voice was so delicate it was rumored she endangered it even by speaking, her silences as famous as her performances.
Silence is the unbearable repartee.
A role needs a certain tone, so your own tone also changes. It's not like I lock myself up in a room to get into the zone. It is based on what I am feeling, because the minute you try too much, weird things happen. Of course, for an intense role you need some silence, and you need to do a lot of thinking.
When I talked to my medical friends about the strange silence on this subject in American medical magazines and textbooks, I gained the impression that here was a subject tainted with Socialism or with feminine sentimentality for the poor.
It's not lost on me that every single person who told their story about Harvey Weinstein talked about how they were silenced, how they were encouraged not to speak up, how they were embarrassed or ashamed to speak up.
It is our lack of will that lies behind the continued denial of justice to Jean McConville. Yet there is something that we can do now for her and for ourselves before our silence turns us from spectators into passive accomplices. We can remember her.
At home, I love reaching out into that absolute silence, when you can hear the owl or the wind.
Comedy club audiences pay up to $25 per person and another fistful of cash to cover a two-drink minimum, so when they don't like something, they let you know - with silence.
