Quotes About Words

There is nothing that requires more precision, and purity of expression, than to write in a familiar style,' as the great English essayist William Hazlitt put it nearly two hundred years ago. 'To write as anyone would speak in common conversation who had a thorough command and choice of words, or who could discourse with ease, force, and perspicuity...' To me these are the cardinal virtues of strong, convincing English prose.

explanation of the difference between a language and a dialect:

Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print

What exactly does he look like? Like no other. There must be some way to describe him. He looks... to be honest... It was rare to find Davenport lost for words and he seemed annoyed by the fact. I have it, Fergins. He looks like one of those ancient Greek sculptures of a god, just before the Romans knocked off its arms and nose. There you have Davenport truly believing he was answering a question.

Fitzgerald's plot may suggest that the American Dream is a mirage, but his words make that dream irresistible.

Gatsby's fall from grace may be grim, but the language of the novel is buoyant; Fitzgerald's plot may suggest that the American Dream is a mirage, but his words make that dream irresistible.

Vitamin D," Stevie said. "You need it." "You don't know that," he said. "I want to eat my meat in my room with the lights off." "As a writer, are those really the words you want to use?" Stevie asked.

That's the thing about speaking—you can talk and talk and have no idea at all what the words leaving your mouth mean, or where they came from.

Many words have been granted me, and some are wise, and some are false, but only three are holy: "I will it!

He knew that the dread in these men's minds was not of the fact, but of his naming it—as if the fact had not existed, but his words held the power to make it exist.

Lois Cook said that words must be freed from the oppression of reason. She said the stranglehold of reason upon words is like the exploitation of the masses by the capitalists. Words must be permitted to negotiate with reason through collective bargaining. That's what she said. She's so amusing and refreshing.

And now, sitting here in our tunnel, we wonder about these words. It is forbidden, not to be happy.

Leggevamo a turno, a voce alta, e le parole sembravano salire in alto per poi ricadere su di noi come rugiada.

but I spoke passionately at the rallies; inspired by phrases I had read in novels and poems, I would weave words together into sounds of revolution.

For in the end laws are just words on a page - words that are sometimes malleable, opaque, as dependent on context and trust as they are in a story or poem or promise to someone, words whose meanings are subject to erosion, sometimes collapsing in the blink of an eye.

Love-charms were easily manufactured anyway: you just wrapped a piece of paper bearing the words "I love you" around ten or twelve gold pieces, and there you were. In an emergency you could dispense with the paper.

My little beast, my eyes, my favorite stolen egg. Listen. To live is to be marked. To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know. In perfect stillness, frankly, I've only found sorrow.

To live is to be marked. To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know.

What you hold in your hands right now, beneath these words, is consecrated air and time and sunlight and, first of all, a place.

The power of words is awful, Frida. Sometimes I want to bury my typewriter in a box of quilts. The radio makes everything worse, because of the knack for amplifying dull sounds. Any two words spoken in haste might become law of the land. But you never know which two. You see why I won't talk to newsmen.

He was quiet, holding that string and kite with everything he had. The way he looked. Eyes raised up, body tethered by one long thread to the big stormy sky, the whole of him up there with his words, talking to whoever was listening. I've not seen a sight to match it. No bones of his had ever been shoved in a feed bag. The man was a giant.

When the rain pours down especially, we have long hours of captivity, in which my sisters determinedly grow bored. But are there books, books there are! Rattling words on the page calling my eyes to dance with them. Everyone else will finish with the singular plowing through, and Ada still has discoveries ahead and behind.

But are there books, books there are! Rattling words on the page calling my eyes to dance with them.

and do not for the love of the Lord say you're laying down if you mean lying down.