Quotes About Language

I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I'd rather remain silent

The actual life of a thought lasts only until it reaches the point of speech...As soon as our thinking has found words it ceases to be sincere...When it begins to exist in others it ceases to live in us, just as the child severs itself from its mother when it enters into its own existence.

For an author to write as he speaks is just as reprehensible as the opposite fault, to speak as he writes; for this gives a pedantic effect to what he says, and at the same time makes him hardly intelligible

A word too much always defeats its purpose.

a língua é, para o espírito de uma nação, o que o estilo é para o espírito de um indivíduo. Mas o domínio perfeito de uma língua só ocorre quando uma pessoa é capaz de traduzir não os livros, por exemplo, mas a si própria; desse modo, sem sofrer nenhuma perda de sua individualidade, ela consegue se comunicar imediatamente na outra língua, agradando tanto aos estrangeiros quanto aos falantes nativos.

Therefore it has always been said that music is the language of feeling and of passion, as words are the language of reason.

great intelligence in a writer if his similes

Assim como todo excesso numa atividade costuma levar ao contrário do que se pretendia, as palavras servem de fato para tornar os pensamentos compreensíveis, mas só até certo ponto. Quando esse ponto é ultrapassado, elas tornam os pensamentos a serem comunicados mais e mais obscuros. Encontrar tal ponto é uma tarefa do estilo e uma questão da capacidade de julgar, pois toda palavra supérflua age diretamente contra seu objetivo.

The highest, i.e., the most general concepts, are the poorest; ultimately these are just empty shells, as, e.g., being, essence, thing, becoming, ect. - incidentally, whatever could philosophical systems produce when they are merely spun out of these same concepts and have as their matter only such empty shells of thought? They must be infinitely empty and poor, and therefore, turn out to be tedious and suffocating.

Není nic t?žšího než vyjádÃ…â"¢it významnou myÅ¡lenku tak, aby jí každý rozumÄ›l.

Thrasymachos. Tell me now, in one word, what shall I be after my death? And mind you be clear and precise. Philalethes. All and nothing! Thrasymachos. I thought so! I gave you a problem, and you solve it by a contradiction. That's a very stale trick. Philalethes. Yes, but you raise transcendental questions, and you expect me to answer them in language that is only made for immanent knowledge. It's no wonder that a contradiction ensues.

Dünyada kitaplardan daha tuhaf sat?? metalar?na rastlamak galiba imkâns?zd?r: Anlamayan kimseler taraf?ndan bas?l?r, anlamayan kimseler taraf?ndan sat?l?r, anlamayan kimseler taraf?ndan okunulur, hatta tetkik ve tenkit edilir; ve ÅŸimdilerde art?k onlar? anlamayan kimseler taraf?ndan kaleme al?nmaktad?r.

Logika doprowadzi? mo?e jedynie do formalnej prawdy, nie za? materialnej.

It would be of general service to German authors if they discerned that while a man should, if possible, think like a great mind, he should speak the same language as every other person. Men should use common words to say uncommon things.

Não há nada mais fácil do que escrever de tal maneira que ninguém entenda; em compensação, nada mais difícil do que expressar pensamentos significativos de modo que todos os compreendam.

When the twins asked what cuff-links were for—"To link cuffs together," Ammu told them—they were thrilled by this morsel of logic in what had so far seemed an illogical language. Cuff + link = cuff-link . This, to them, rivaled the precision of logic and mathematics. Cuff-links gave them an inordinate (if exaggerated) satisfaction, and a real affection for the English language.

Was it possible to live outside language? Naturally this question did not address itself to her in words, or as a single lucid sentence. It addressed itself to her as a soundless, embryonic howl.

As a writer, one spends a lifetime journeying into the heart of language, trying to minimize, if not eliminate, the distance between language and thought.

She speaks the most beautiful Urdu.

Something convulsed. Something changed. It was about language again. Not a writer's private language, but a country's public language, its public imagination of itself. Suddenly, things that would have been unthinkable to say in public became acceptable. Officially acceptable. Virile national pride, which had more to do with hate than love, flowed like noxious lava on the streets.

In what language does rain fall over tormented cities? —PABLO NERUDA

Caste was implied in people's names, in the way people referred to each other, in the work they did, in the clothes they wore, in the marriages that were arranged, in the language they spoke. Even so, I never encountered the notion of caste in a single school textbook. Reading Ambedkar alerted me to a gaping hole in our pedagogical universe.

Something convulsed. Something changed. It was about language again. Not a writer's private language, but a country's public language, its public imagination of itself. Suddenly, things that would have been unthinkable to say in public became acceptable. Officially acceptable. Virile national pride, which had more to do with hate than love, flowed like noxious lava on the streets.

Someone else said she was a rapevictim (which was a word in every language).