Quotes About Language

Don't you love the Oxford Dictionary? When I first read it, I thought it was a really really long poem about everything.

Who does not love his own tongue is far worse than a brute or stinking fish.

The dance is a poem of which each movement is a word.

Love, when spelled backwards and read phonetically, reads evil

When the heart speaks, however simple the words, its language is always acceptable to those who have hearts.

Most of conflicts and tensions are due to language. Don't pay so much attention to the words. In love's country, language doesn't have its place. Love's mute.

I love you is eight letters...then again, so is bullshit.

And the words we find are always insufficient, like love, though they are often lovely and all we have.

I love you more than words. And I am a big fan of words.

As for rosemary, I let it run all over my garden walls, not only because my bees love it but because it is the herb sacred to remembrance and to friendship, whence a sprig of it hath a dumb language.

No fear or shame in the dignity of your experience, language, and knowledge.

Love is a word. A sound. Its association with a particular feeling is arbitrary, unmeasurable, and ultimately meaningless

Love in all eight tones and all five semitones of the word's full octave.

One thing I can say about the French language is that no one in the world loves their language as much as they do.

Sanskrit has ninety-six words for love; ancient Persian has eighty; Greek three; and English simply one.

Words have no language which can utter the secrets of love; and beyond the limits of expression is the expounding of desire.

As a candidate, I intend to let everyone hear my message, including the many who can express their love of country in a different language.

Love will heal What language fails to know

Words have finished flirting. Now they are making love.

I love the Chinese words for greeting: not strictly 'Hello' but 'Have you eaten yet?

Love is not dumb. The heart speaks many ways.

If you say, I love you, then you have already fallen in love with language, which is already a form of break up and infidelity.

O Music! language of the soul, Of love, of God to man; Bright beam from heaven thrilling, That lightens sorrow's weight.

And when you love a book, commit one glorious sentence of it-perhaps your favorite sentence-to memory. That way you won't forget the language of the story that moved you to tears.