Quotes About Words

Then others for breath of words respect, Me for my dumb thoughts, speaking in effect.

Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short minute gives me in her sight: Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare; It is enough I may but call her mine.

O, that's a brave man! He writes brave verses, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely

I will speak daggers to her, but use none.

Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.

Ah, kill me with your weapon, not with words.

Mere prattle without practice

Cease thy counsel, for thy words fall into my ears as priceless as water into a sieve.

what? drawn and talk of peace? I hate the word as I hate Hell, all Montagues, and thee

speak to me as to thy thinking As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts The worst of words...

The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You that; we this way.

Many a man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing.

Whate'er I read to her. I'll plead for you As for my patron, stand you so assured, As firmly as yourself were in still place - Yea, and perhaps with more successful words Than you, unless you were a scholar, sir. O this learning, what a thing it is!

One doth not know / How much an ill word may empoison liking.

Nay, pray you, seek no color for your going, But bid farewell and go. When you sued staying, Then was the time for words. No going then! Eternity was in our lips and eyes, Bliss in our brows' bent, none our parts so poor But was a race of heaven. They are so still, Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, Art turned the greatest liar.

Didst thou but know the inly touch of love Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow As seek to quench the fire of love with words. (2.7.18-20)

Men have died from time to time, and words have eaten them, but not for love.

And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well: And yet words are no deeds.

O know, sweet love, I always write of you, And you and love are still my argument, So all my best is dressing old words new, Spending again what is already spent: For as the sun is daily new and old, So is my love still telling what is told.

Such stuff as madmen tongue.

Be thou assured, if words be made of breath, And breath of life, I have no life to breath What thou hast said to me.

Las palabras están llenas de falsedad o de arte; la mirada es el lenguaje del corazón.

Good words are better than bad strokes, Octavius.

Faith, I have heard too much; for your words and performances are no kin together.