In silence, power

 The universe was born out of silence, and so one day we, too will return to it.

We may drone on about principle; we may cry and rage against the light---yet this does not detract from the fact that there is a certain beauty to the stillness. This is not 'peace' in the way some adherents to the path would define, but a moment to breathe. As you close your eyes and still your heart, everything around you becomes clearer.
Silence be the whetstone to the blade that is your mind, fellow Sith. There is value to embracing the beauty of non-being in the Force.

Our consciousness and essence will, in time surpass our bodies in some way or another. I will make no claims as to a hereafter filled with joy or sorrow. Personally, I hope for a dreamless slumber---or simply oblivion. For what is purer than an unmarred state? Obelisks rise in the distance of an alien landscape; deathly stillness permeates the air.
Think of Korriban, the birthplace of our ancestral order and ponder on what secrets it may now hold.
Let this occupy your every thought and understand that in the quiet you can hear the echoes of all ages and the tune of every single state of being all at once. When you cease to opine and expect. When you cease to hunger for everything and are no longer beholden to every whim and passion.
But do not confuse this with the ignorance of the Jedi, or their surrender to vapid nothingness.

To be silent is not to accept defeat. Nor is it to concede anything to anyone. To refuse to speak--or to measure one's words is perhaps one of the lost arts. One gives too much away with one's speech; and yet a lot is said in the absence of it. 
In nature, those which are deadliest are the quietest. Little does it do to announce one's attack before it happens; the blade that slits the throat is not heard when it drinks the blood of the intended sacrifice. 

In a darkened room, become one with the silence; be every shadow. Be one with all that is unseen and all will be revealed to you. The things that peek through the void have voices akin to those of angels. Shut your voice. Remember your own insignificance, and meaning will come to you clearer than the beating of your own heart.

At the summit of being a citadel stands.

What sweet music the silence makes.