Quotes About Words

Nuestras formas de hablar son como dibujos de nombres. Nombres vagos, débiles, pero nombres al fin y al cabo. Ten cuidado con ellos.

Can't remember the end of that last line. Lord but I dislike poetry. How can anyone remember words that aren't put to music?

Music carries words over miles and into hearts and memories.

Les paraules poden calar foc a la ment dels homes. Les paraules poden arrencar llàgrimes als cors més durs. Hi ha set paraules que faran que una persona t'estimi. Hi ha deu paraules que minaran la voluntat d'un home fort.

Words are pale shadows of forgotten names.

Lord do I dislike poetry, how can anyone remember words that aren't put to music".

I struggled for a moment, failed. "So blue is a name?" "It is a word. Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts. There are seven words that will make a person love you. There are ten words that will break a strong man's will. But a word is nothing but a painting of a fire. A name is the fire itself.

Un poeta es un músico que no sabe cantar. Las palabras tienen que encontrar la mente de un hombre si pretenden llegar a su corazón, y la mente de algunos hombres es lamentablemente pequeña. La música llega al corazón por pequeña o acérrima que sea la mente de quien la escucha.

Remember this, son, if you forget everything else. A poet is a musician who can't sing. Words have to find a man's mind before they can touch his heart, and some men's minds are woeful small targets. Music touches their hearts directly no matter how small or stubborn the mind of the man who listens." My

I've always held the belief that you can accomplish more with a kind word and a gun than you can with a kind word alone.

Of particular importance to this hypothesis is the fact that children are exposed to many thousands of opportunities to learn words and phrases. Learning takes place gradually, as the number of links between language and meaning and among language forms are built up.

I got over the loss of his desk and chair, but never the desire to produce a string of words more precious than the emeralds of Cortés.

There was no time real or otherwise at the Arcade and we could sit for hours with a handful of stragglers, spinning words or content within commiserating silence.

Leaves as vowels, whispers of words like a breath of net. Leaves are vowels, I sweep them up hoping to find the combinations I am looking for.

A language without words, where the mind must bow to instinct

My small torrent of words dissipated into an elaborate sense of expanding and receding. It was my entrance into the radiance of imagination.

Robert morente, creava il silenzio. Io, destinata alla vita, prestai ascolto a un silenzio che avrebbe richiesto un'esistenza intera per trovare le parole.

There are two types of masterpieces. There are the classic works monstrous and divine like Moby-Dick or Withering Heights or Frankenstein: A Modern Prometheus. And then there is a type wherein the writer seems to infuse living energy into words as the reader is spun, wrung, and hung out to dry.

We all have a song. A song comes spontaneously, expressing joy, loneliness, to dispel fear or exhibit a small triumph. We hardly notice we are forming them, as we sing them, often alone, half to ourselves. It is finding the words within that leads us to sing. It might be a hymn, a shard of rebellion, or a teenage prayer.

Reading was my escape and my comfort, my consolation, my stimulant of choice: reading for the pure pleasure of it, for the beautiful stillness that surrounds you when you hear an author's words reverberating in your head.

The pen will never be able to move fast enough to write down every word discovered in the space of memory. Some things have been lost forever, other things will perhaps be remembered again, and still other things have been lost and found and lost again. There is no way to be sure of any this.

Thoughts are real', he said. 'Words are real. Everything human is real, and sometimes we know things before they happen, even if we aren't aware of it. We live in the present, but the future is inside us at every moment. Maybe that's what writing is all about, Sid. Not recording events from the past, but making things happen in the future'.

To care about words, to have a stake in what is written, to believe in the power of books - this overwhelms the rest, and beside it one's life becomes very small.

Writing begins in the body, it is the music of the body, and even if the words have meaning, can sometimes have meaning, the music of the words is where the meanings begin....Writing as a lesser form of dance.