There is a silence deeper than any noise a silence that speaks when the world has said too much.
In love, in suffering, in death we often find ourselves speechless. Not because there is nothing to say, but because words are too small.
Kafka's silence was loud. His characters wandered through mute worlds, searching for answers that never came. Marcus Aurelius wrote in solitude, as if each word was a stone laid on the grave of what he once believed.
Silence is not empty. It is sacred. It is where healing begins. Where truth hides. Where the soul goes to breathe.
Hold it close. And listen.