Where there is shouting, there is no true knowledge.

Hear the words of Leonardo da Vinci, master of invention and seer of hidden truths, who declared: “Where there is shouting, there is no true knowledge.” In this saying lies a timeless warning: that truth does not dwell in noise, nor wisdom in anger. For shouting is the language of pride, of fear, of the unwillingness to listen. Knowledge, by contrast, is the child of patience, silence, and careful reflection. Thus, Leonardo, who sought harmony in all things—whether in the flight of birds or the motion of water—teaches us that wisdom cannot grow where voices are raised in rage.

The meaning of this saying is twofold. First, shouting reveals not strength but weakness. The one who shouts does so because his reasoning is feeble, because he cannot persuade with truth and must therefore overwhelm with volume. True knowledge does not require force; it compels assent by its clarity, its simplicity, and its power. Second, shouting silences listening, and without listening there can be no learning. For knowledge is not a one-sided command, but a dialogue between teacher and student, between seeker and truth.

History bears witness to this. Consider the philosophers of ancient Athens. Socrates, in his pursuit of wisdom, asked questions gently, guiding his students with reason rather than with noise. He never sought to win by volume, but by patient inquiry, and his legacy endures as a foundation of philosophy. Contrast him with the demagogues of his time, who stirred the mob with loud words and fiery cries. Their shouts moved the crowd for a moment, but their influence soon vanished, while Socrates’ quiet reasoning still shapes the minds of generations. Here we see Leonardo’s truth: noise fades, but knowledge endures.

There is also the example of Abraham Lincoln, who in the heat of civil war never ruled with shouting, but with calm words and steady conviction. His debates and speeches were not filled with rage but with reason, appealing to the conscience of the nation. Meanwhile, his opponents often relied on fiery rhetoric, loud accusations, and bitter insults. In the end, it was Lincoln’s quiet strength, his reasoned clarity, that carried the day, not the empty shouting of his rivals.

Leonardo’s own life also confirms his saying. Surrounded by courts filled with rivalry and noise, he often withdrew into solitude, studying nature, observing the hidden laws of the world. While others shouted to assert their place in politics or religion, Leonardo sought silence to uncover the workings of the heavens, the structure of the body, the mysteries of flight. He knew that only in stillness does the mind hear the whispers of truth, and only in humility can knowledge take root.

The lesson, then, is clear: when you encounter shouting, whether in the marketplace, in politics, or even in your own household, remember that it is not the sound of wisdom. Do not be deceived by volume, for truth is not proven by the loudest voice but by the clearest reason. If you seek knowledge, lower your voice, sharpen your mind, and open your ears. In listening and in reflection, you will discover more than in hours of angry debate.

Therefore, beloved seekers, let your practice be this: speak with calmness, listen with patience, and weigh words not by their noise but by their truth. Do not let anger masquerade as wisdom, nor volume as authority. For Leonardo’s eternal wisdom remains: where there is shouting, there is no true knowledge. Seek the quiet path, and you will find that knowledge grows not in noise, but in the stillness of a humble heart.