There is a silence of the tongue, there is a silence of the whole body, there is a silence of the soul, there is a the silence of the mind, and there is the silence of the spirit. The silence of the tongue is merely when it is not incited to angry speech or to stirring up trouble; the silence of the soul is when there are no ugly thoughts bursting forth within it; the silence of the mind is when it is not reflecting on any harmful knowledge or wisdom; the silence of the spirit is when the mind ceases even from stirrings caused by created spiritual beings and all its movements are stirred solely by Being, at the wondrous awe of the silence which surrounds Being. In this state it is truly silent, aware that the silence which is upon it is itself silent.
An old Rabbi once asked the pupils how they could tell when night had ended and day had begun.
"Could it be," asked one of the students, "When you can see an animal in the distance and tell whether it is a sheep or a dog?"
"No," answered the Rabbi.
Another asked, "Is it when you can look at a tree in the distance and tell whether it's a fig tree or a peach tree?"
”No," answered the Rabbi.
"Then when is it?" the pupils demanded.
"It is when you can look on the face of any man or woman and see that it is your sister or brother. Because if you cannot see this, it is still night."