Quotes About Words

I pray you, then, receive my little book in all charity, studying my words with me, forgiving mistake and foible for sake of the faith and passion that is in me, and seeking the grain of truth hidden there.

La lingua non ha ossa, ma rompe il dorsol... The tongue has no bones but can break a man's back!

The words of my book are nothing, the drift of it everything.

Remember my words, I may again return, I love you, I depart from materials, I am as one disembodied, triumphant, dead.

Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you and the leaves to rustle for you, do my words refuse to glisten and rustle for you.

Forth from the war emerging,a book I have made, the words of my book nothing, the drift of it everything, a book separate, not link'd with the rest nor felt by the intellect, but you ye untold latencies will thrill to every page.

Shut not your doors to me proud libraries,   For that which was lacking on all your well-fill'd shelves, yet       needed most, I bring,   Forth from the war emerging, a book I have made,   The words of my book nothing, the drift of it every thing,   A book separate, not link'd with the rest nor felt by the intellect,   But you ye untold latencies will thrill to every page.

O to have life henceforth a poem of new joys! To dance, clap hands, exult, shout, skip, leap, roll on, float on! To be a sailor of the world bound for all ports, A ship itself, (see indeed these sails I spread to the sun and air,) A swift and swelling ship full of rich words, full of joys.

The words of true poems are the tuft and final applause of science.

I know perfectly well my own egotism, And know my omnivorous words, and cannot say any less, And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself.

Forth from the war emerging, a book I have made, The words of my book nothing, the drift of it every thing

Shut not your doors to me proud libraries, for that which was lacking on all your well-fill'd shelves, yet needed most, I bring forth from the war emerging, a book I've made , the words of my book , nothing, the drift of it, everything . . . . -Walt Whitman

The words of my book nothing, the drift of it every thing

I teach straying from me, yet who can stray from me? I follow you whoever you are from the present hour, My words itch at your ears till you understand them.

What matters for the dialectician is having the wind of world history in his sails. Thinking for him means: to set the sails. It is the way they are set that matters. Words are his sails. The way they are set turns them into concepts.

meaning is never found in relative independence, as in individual words or sentences; rather, it is in a constant state of flux –

bobbybaird i'm a writer, so are you. we try to compose our thoughts and words for effect as well as sense. vain of us? a bit.

She was already dead, but we were starved for followers and stupefied by the elixir of our own heroism, and so we pretended words could resurrect her.

Men command fewer words than they have ideas to express, and language, as Jean Paul said, is a dictionary of faded metaphors.

But it is wonderful what mischief may be done by only two words

You will continue to suffer if you have an emotional reaction to everything that is said to you. True power is sitting back and observing things with magic. True power is restraint. If words control you that means everyone else can control you. Breathe and allow things to pass.

It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh profits nothing. The words that I speak to you are spirit, and they are life" (John 6:63).

Words can't fix my life. Words can't give me a family. Words can't do jack. You may be a teacher, Ms. Leone, but face it: You don't know squat.

This is the kind of silence that connects us in a way that words never could.