Hush Quotes - Page 6

• Hush little baby, Dont you cry, Dont cut your arms, Dont say goodbye. Put down that razor, Put down that light, It maybe hard but, You'll win this fight.

  Emily Giffin

  Goodbye, Baby, Self Harm

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• He began to search among the infinite series of impressions which time had laid down, leaf upon leaf, fold upon fold softly, incessantly upon his brain; among scents, sounds; voices, harsh, hollow, sweet; and lights passing, and brooms tapping; and the wash and hush of the sea.

  Virginia Woolf

  Sweet, Memories, Voice

  Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.365, Wordsworth Editions

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• O magic sleep! O comfortable bird, That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind Till it is hush'd and smooth!

  John Keats

  Sleep, Sea, Bird

  Harry Buxton Forman, John Keats (1817). “The complete works of John Keats”, p.86

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• Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.

  Walter Scott

  May, Waking, Strife

  Walter Scott, Sir Walter Scott (1841). “The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart”, p.652

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• I wish I could take language And fold it like cool, moist rags. I would lay words on your forehead. I would wrap words on your wrists. 'There, there,' my words would say - Or something better. I would ask them to murmur, 'Hush' and 'Shh, shhh, it's all right.' I would ask them to hold you all night. I wish I could take language And daub and soothe and cool Where fever blisters and burns, Where fever turns yourself against you. I wish I could take language And heal the words that were the wounds You have no names for.

  Julia Margaret Cameron

  Night, Names, Wish

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• Four hundred year old trees, who draw aliveness from the earth like smoke from the heart of God, we come, not knowing you will hush our little want to be big; we come, not knowing that all the work is so much busyness of mind; all the worry, so much busyness of heart. As the sun warms anything near, being warms everything still and the great still things that outlast us make us crack like leaves of laurel releasing a fragrance that has always been.

  Mark Nepo

  Heart, Knowing, Years

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• Summertime And the living is easy Fish are jumpin' And the cotton is high Oh, your daddy's rich And your mama's good lookin' So hush little baby now don't you cry One of these mornin's You're gonna rise up singin' Then you'll spread your wings And take to the sky But til that mornin' Ain't nothin' can harm you With your daddy And your mammy standin' by.

  George Gershwin

  Summer, Baby, Sky

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• I inscribe three lines, hush hush hush, into my skin. Ghosts trickle out.

  Laurie Halse Anderson

  Skins, Lines, Three

  Laurie Halse Anderson (2014). “Wintergirls”, p.60, Scholastic UK

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• What I’m talking about is more than recompense for past injustices—more than a handout, a payoff, hush money, or a reluctant bribe. What I’m talking about is a national reckoning that would lead to spiritual renewal. Reparations would mean the end of scarfing hot dogs on the Fourth of July while denying the facts of our heritage. Reparations would mean the end of yelling “patriotism” while waving a Confederate flag. Reparations would mean a revolution of the American consciousness, a reconciling of our self-image as the great democratizer with the facts of our history.

  Ta-Nehisi Coates

  Spiritual, Dog, Mean

  "The Case for Reparations". www.theatlantic.com. June 2014.

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• The wide stare stared itself out for one while; the Sun went down in a red, green, golden glory; the stars came out in the heavens, and the fire-flies mimicked them in the lower air, as men may feebly imitate the goodness of a better order of beings; the long dusty roads and the interminable plains were in repose-and so deep a hush was on the sea, that it scarcely whispered of the time when it shall give up its dead.

  Charles Dickens

  Nature, Stars, Giving Up

  CHARLES DICKENS (1867). “LITTLE DORRIT”, p.10

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• And in time it will be as though men had never come to this perfect corner of the world-never called it paradise on earth, never despoiled it with their dream factories; and in the golden hush of the afternoon all that will be heard will be the flittering of dragonflies, and the murmur of hummingbirds as they pass from bower to bower, looking for a place to sup sweetness.

  Clive Barker

  Dream, Men, Paradise On Earth

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• For hours she had lain in a kind of gentle torpor, not unlike that sweet lassitude which masters one in the hush of a midsummer noon, when the heat seems to have silenced the very birds and insects, and, lying sunk in the tasselled meadow grasses, one looks up through a level roofing of maple-leaves at the vast, shadowless, and unsuggestive blue.

  Edith Wharton

  Sweet, Lying, Blue

  Edith Wharton (2001). “Early Short Fiction”, p.50, Electric Book Company

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• ...this pause of rest, This morning hush before the sun.

  Sarah Chauncey Woolsey

  Morning, Sun, Pauses

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• Hush, little bright line, don’t you cry You’ll be a cliché by and by.

  Fred Allen

  Lines, Littles, Cry

  Fred Allen (1956). “Much Ado About me”

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• There is a hush over all Europe, nay, over all the world. Alas! it is the hush of suspense, and in many lands it is the hush of fear. Listen! No, listen carefully, I think I hear somethingyes, there it was quite clear. Dont you hear it? It is the tramp of armies crunching the gravel of the paradegrounds, splashing through rain-soaked fields, the tramp of two million German soldiers and more than a million Italiansgoing on maneuversyes, only on maneuvers!

  Winston Churchill

  Rain, Army, Thinking

  "Winston S. Churchill: His Complete Speeches, 1897-1963" by Robert Rhodes James, Vol. 6, p. 6150, 1974.

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• Hush! Still as death, The tempest holds his breath As from a sudden will; The rain stops short, but from the eaves You see it drop, and hear it from the leaves, All is so bodingly still.

  James Russell Lowell

  Rain, Weather, Tempest

  James Russell Lowell (2016). “Delphi Complete Poetical Works of James Russell Lowell (Illustrated)”, p.45, Delphi Classics

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• You are the promised kiss of springtime that makes the lonely winter seem long. You are the breathless hush of evening that trembles on the brink of a lovely song.

  Frank Sinatra

  Romantic, Song, Lonely

  Song: All The Things You Are

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• I waited just to see you at that kind of peace, I wanted to be beside you, I wanted you to wake up slowly or startle, or just half awaken and turn over or murmur my name. I wanted to watch you forever, or sleep beside you forever, or sleep forever while you woke and watched me, something forever anyway. I wanted to kiss you, rumple your hair, rest three fingertips on your hip bone warm and smooth, wake you that way or hush you back to sleep.

  Daniel Handler

  Sleep, Kissing, Names

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• If hush'd the loud whirlwind that ruffled the deep, The sky if no longer dark tempests deform; When our perils are past shall our gratitude sleep? No! Here's to the pilot that weather'd the storm!

  George Canning

  Gratitude, Sleep, Dark

  George Canning (1842). “Select Speeches of the Right Honourable George Canning: With a Preliminary Biographical Sketch, and an Appendix, of Extracts from His Writings and Speeches”, p.559

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• Listen closely... the eternal hush of silence goes on and on throughout all this, and has been going on, and will go on and on. This is because the world is nothing but a dream and is just thought of and the everlasting eternity pays no attention to it.

  Jack Kerouac

  Dream, Silence, Attention

  Jack Kerouac (1960). “The Scripture of the Golden Eternity: Pocket Poets Number 51”, p.57, City Lights Books

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• Have you ever heard the wonderful silence just before the dawn? Or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? Or perhaps you know the silence when you haven't the answer to a question you've been asked, or the hush of a country road at night, or the expectant pause in a roomful of people when someone is just about to speak, or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you're all alone in the whole house? Each one is different, you know, and all very beautiful, if you listen carefully.

  Norton Juster

  Beautiful, Country, Night

  "The Phantom Tollbooth". Book by Norton Juster, www.theguardian.com. 1961.

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• It does not do to rely too much on silent majorities, Evey, for silence is a fragile thing, one loud noise, and its gone. But the people are so cowed and disorganised. A few might take the opportunity to protest, but it'll just be a voice crying in the wilderness. Noise is relative to the silence preceding it. The more absolute the hush, the more shocking the thunderclap. Our masters have not heard the people's voice for generations, Evey and it is much, much louder than they care to remember.

  Alan Moore

  Opportunity, Voice, People

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• Access to knowledge is the superb, the supreme act of truly great civilizations. Of all the institutions that purport to do this, free libraries stand virtually alone in accomplishing this mission. No committee decides who may enter, no crisis of body or spirit must accompany the entrant. No tuition is charged, no oath sworn, no visa demanded. Of the monuments humans build for themselves, very few say - touch me, use me, my hush is not indifference, my space is not barrier. If I inspire awe, it is because I am in awe of you and the possibilities that dwell in you.

  Toni Morrison

  Civilization, Space, Inspire

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• This is the violet hour, the hour of hush and wonder, when the affectations glow and valor is reborn, when the shadows deepen along the edge of the forest and we believe that, if we watch carefully, at any moment we may see the unicorn.

  Bernard DeVoto

  Believe, Shadow, Watches

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• Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
  Do not stand at my grave and weep,
  I am not there, I do not sleep.
  I am in a thousand winds that blow,
  I am the softly falling snow.
  I am the gentle showers of rain,
  I am the fields of ripening grain.
  I am in the morning hush,
  I am in the graceful rush
  Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
  I am the star shine of the night.
  I am in the flowers that bloom,
  I am in a quiet room.
  I am in the birds that sing,
  I am in each lovely thing.
  Do not stand at my grave and cry,
  I am not there. I do not die.

  Mary Elizabeth Frye

  Inspirational, Beautiful, Morning

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