Words are like husks that carry a germ. This germ comes out of who we are. The husk is what you find in a dictionary. The germ carries the vital force of the seed; it is what determines what plant will sprout from the seed. Sometime, maybe often, the one who listens cannot hear, cannot receive the germ. When we discern that such is the case, it is generally better not to multiply husks.
Silence speaks very loudly. Silence invites the listener to hear differently.
Words have their place, but sometimes that place can only be found in silence.