A Quote by Rumi

When I am silent, I have thunder hidden inside. — © Rumi
When I am silent, I have thunder hidden inside.

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I am not the person who is singing I am the silent one inside. . . . I am not my house, my car, my songs They are only stops along my way. . . .
Has the dark shadow really disappeared? Or is it inside me, concealed, waiting for its chance to reappear? Like a clever thief hidden inside a house, breathing quietly, waiting until everyone’s asleep. I have looked deep inside myself, trying to detect something that might be there. But just as our consciousness is a maze, so too is our body. Everywhere you turn there’s darkness, and a blind spot. Everywhere you find silent hints, everywhere a surprise is waiting for you.
The Beloved is inside you and also inside me. You know the tree is hidden inside the seed. Let your arrogance go. None of us has gone far. Inside love there is more power than we realize.
This was, I would later realise, a planet of things wrapped inside things. Food inside wrappers. Bodies inside clothes. Contempt inside smiles. Everything was hidden away.
I am smiling at myself today There's no wish left in this heart Or perhaps there is no heart left Free from all desire I sit quietly like Earth My silent cry echoes like thunder Throughout the universe I am not worried about it I know it will be heard by no one Except me.
I am so close, I may look distant. So completely mixed with you, I may look separate. So out in the open, I appear hidden. So silent, because I am constantly talking with you.
It is not the roaring thunder that smites, but the silent lightning.
I remember the first time I heard 'The Thunder Rolls.' It was dark, and we were driving to the beach. There was the thunder outside and the thunder in the song. It was eerie.
did you ever see anybody so disgusting: said lightning to thunder, "never" thunder growled thunder, "lets give him the works
Noon, ripe as thunder and silent as thought, had fled unfingered.
I do think that inside of country music now there's a very silent majority, and I represent that silent majority.
Doth not all nature around me praise God? If I were silent, I should be an exception to the universe. Doth not the thunder praise Him as it rolls like drums in the march of the God of armies? Do not the mountains praise Him when the woods upon their summits wave in adoration? Doth not the lightning write His name in letters of fire? Hath not the whole earth a voice? And shall I, can I, silent be?
Sadness to me is the happiest time, When a shining city rises from the ruins of my drunken mind. Those times when I'm silent and still as the earth, The thunder of my roar is heard across the universe.
I can hear her thunder, she's coming after me, thunder thighs.
The genius of man is hidden in the silent, settled state of mind from where every thought emerges.
Thunder is good, thunder is impressive; but it is lightning that does the work.
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