Music is the sound of unspoken thoughts.

I am master of my spoken words and slave to those which remain unspoken.

Where to now? Only the previously unknowable and unspoken will bring us there.

...the words I can't say are the holes I punch in the walls of my psyche...

She had no need to ask why he had come. She knew as certainly as if he had told her that he was here to be where she was.

I have buried dead bodies of unspoken words in the graveyard of my being