|down the street from my house|
Now that all that patriotic fervor has been spent, I'm hoping the dust will settle and we can all sink into a long period of dreamy, slow-moving....
Silence regarding God, spiritual matters and my soul, unless speech is necessary in order to acknowledge my faith or to do good to the souls of others.
Silence regarding my own soul, the graces that I have rec'd, and my spiritual life, unless charity requires me to break this silence to a very guarded and humble degree.
Silence regarding myself, my trials, privations and health. I will answer questions truthfully and without affectation, then be silent again.
Silence is good for the soul, essential to recollection, and conducive to humility. Remember our Lord's silence throughout His life and during the hours of His passion.
When I am in the company of others, for their good, I will talk freely on exalted and serious subjects, the discussion of which cannot fail to enlarge and strengthen both my soul and (hopefully--I add this) theirs.
I will talk about nothing trivial or mean, and no petty grievances.
In a word, my speech shall be recollected and my silence living."
--Elisabeth Leseur (1866-1914),
|across the street from my house|
One has a moral obligation to take responsibility for one’s actions, and that includes one’s words and silences, yea, one’s silences, because silences rise to heaven, too, and God understands them, and only God understands and judges them, so one must be very careful with one’s silences.
--Roberto Bolaño, By Night in Chile
"It is not likely that when the country was new and men were often alone in the fields and the forest they got a sense of bigness outside themselves that has now in some way been lost...Mystery whispered in the grass, played in the branches of tress overhead, was caught up and blown across the American line in clouds of dust at evening on the prairies...I am old enough to remember tales that strengthen my belief in a deep semi-religious influence that was formerly at work among our people...I can remember old fellows in my home town speaking feelingly of an evening spent on the big empty plains. It had taken the shrillness out of them. They had learned the trick of the quiet."
--from a letter from Sherwood Anderson to Waldo Frank
|around the corner from my house|
The Father spoke from all eternity just one Word. And he spoke it in an eternal silence. And it is in silence that we hear him.
--St. John of the Cross