When Kino had finished, Juana came back to the fire and ate her breakfast. They had spoken once, but there is not need for speech if it is only a habit anyway. Kino sighed with satisfaction - and that was conversation.

It felt right not to talk. It felt good just to be. Sometimes there was no need to fill the air with words.”

Perhaps there was an intimacy which did not need words.

One who ”knows,” knows there is no need to discourse; knowing is enough

You don't need words — just one kiss, then another.

It's often just enough to be with someone. I don't need to touch them. Not even talk. A feeling passes between you both. You're not alone.

Seated at table -
no need for the fracture
of the room's silence; noiselessly
they conversed.

And isn't it usually so, that lovers who share their daily lives with each other gradually find they need to put very little into words?

There is no such thing as conversation. It is an illusion. There are intersecting monologues, that is all.

she talked less, or at least did less of the kind of talking whose only purpose was to fill silence

Conversation in its true meaning isn't all wagging the tongue; sometimes it is a deeply shared silence.

We may talk for a lifetime without doing more than indefinitely repeat the vacuity of a minute.

Silence was pleased.

Silence was pleased.