Language Quotes - Page 7

... since the history of words is a mainspring of our intellectual and emotional character.

Language, when it finally comes, has the vigor of a felon pardoned after twenty-one years on hold. Sudden, raw, stripped to its underwear.

The term "political correctness" has always appalled me, reminding me of Orwell's "Thought Police" and fascist regimes.

A deaf and dumb in the mist of morons is a renowed talkative among brains.

DYER. No, I am not of your Mind, for the Dialogue was fitted up with too much Facility. Words must be pluckt from Obscurity and nourished with Care, improved with Art and corrected with Application. Labour and Time are the Instruments in the perfection of all Work.

Home. The word circled comfortably in my mouth like bubble gum, swished around sweetly soft and satisfying. Home. Try saying it aloud to yourself. Home. Isn’t it like taking a bite of something lovely? If only we could eat words.

In other words, all the highest aims of language are decisively the work
of God. They are decisively supernatural. And no amount of poetic
effort or expertise in the use of words can bring about the great aims
of life if God withholds his saving power.

To creative people, the compendium of the white man's dialect are unfashionable, because their creations are more than what the tongue could say.

The word begone is a Russian doll. A small, single word, which contains so many others; and when all the smaller words inside line up, they look like a bridge: Be Beg Ego Go On One.

The facts that make the world real- these depend on the unreal in order to be recognised by it.

Now, standing here, it is clear as day: more than anything else, you want to find words for what you feel and think and everything that is dark. And then this terrifying thought hits you: Yes, your father wrote poetry to find a language for his wounds. Yes, you in your own way have become your father.

Just remember, when someone has an accent, it means that he knows one more language than you do.

Words are the wellspring of the world, and language is the most powerful weapon in the ancient and still unfolding war between truth and lies.

So many words get lost. They leave the mouth and lose their courage, wandering aimlessly until they are swept into the gutter like dead leaves.

Four-letter words have always offended me. I cringe at hearing them. Can't, don't, and won't are the worst.

Words borrowed of antiquity do lend a kind of majesty to style, and are not without their delight sometimes.

A teacher of mine once said there are no true synonyms.

We're living in a teetering tower of babble. A shaky reality of words. A DNA soup for disaster. The natural world destroyed, we're left with this cluttered world of language.

Fear not because your prayer is stammering, your words feeble, and your language poor. Jesus can understand you.

More than anything, more than anything she had with him, she missed the language they had invented, the likes of which she had never had nor would again. The thoughts and ideas he had birthed in her, his golden touch, and the words that erupted from her and became sparks of light to him.