I love and reverence the Word, the bearer of the spirit, the tool and gleaming ploughshare of progress.
My heart is firm, my hands calm: I need no hot words.
It was only just words, words,—they meant nothing in the world to him, I might just as well have whistled. Words realize nothing, vivify nothing to you, unless you have suffered in your own person the thing which the words try to describe.
Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish. And yet it also pleases me and seems right that what is of value and wisdom to one man seems nonsense to another.
I judge by deeds not words.
I swear I begin to see little or nothing in audible words,
All merges toward the presentation of the unspoken meanings of the earth,
Toward him who sings the songs of the body and of the truths of the earth,
Toward him who makes the dictionaries of words that print cannot touch.
- Enough: in misery can words avail?
- And what so tedious as a twice-told tale?
There is a weird power in a spoken word... And a word carries far — very far — deals destruction through time as the bullets go flying through space.
I prefer silence. Then you can hear thoughts and see into the past. In silence you can't hide anything ... as you can in words.
None of us can ever express the exact measure of his needs or his thoughts or his sorrows ... human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.
Words are the physicians of a mind diseased.
Thy words are like a cloud of winged snakes;
And yet I pity those they torture not.
- But words are words; I never yet did hear
- That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear.
The beautiful word begets the beautiful deed.
Big words are always punished.
- My words fly up, my thoughts remain below;
- Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
Speech is civilization itself. The word, even the most contradictory word, preserves contact — it is silence which isolates.
Words alone are certain good.
- W. B. YEATS, The Song of the Happy Shepherd
- You taught me language; and my profit on't
- Is, I know how to curse.
Oh, my Lolita, I have only words to play with!
I have no gift of words, but I speak the truth.
What is the Law of the Jungle? Strike first and then give tongue.
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