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Language is the blood of the soul into which thoughts run and out of which they grow.
Language is the blood of the soul into which thoughts run and out of which they grow.
I can remember the lush spring excitement of language in childhood. Sitting in church, rolling it around my mouth like read more
I can remember the lush spring excitement of language in childhood. Sitting in church, rolling it around my mouth like marbles--tabernacle and pharisee and parable, tresspass and Babylon and covenant.
For every man there is something in the vocabulary that would stick to him like a second skin. His enemies read more
For every man there is something in the vocabulary that would stick to him like a second skin. His enemies have only to find it.
Language is a city to the building of which every human being brought a stone.
Language is a city to the building of which every human being brought a stone.
We are getting into semantics again. If we use words, there is a very grave danger they will be misinterpreted.
We are getting into semantics again. If we use words, there is a very grave danger they will be misinterpreted.
Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter!
Thou whoreson zed, thou unnecessary letter!
To God I speak Spanish, to women Italian, to men French, and to
my horse--German.
To God I speak Spanish, to women Italian, to men French, and to
my horse--German.
The coldest word was once a glowing new metaphor.
The coldest word was once a glowing new metaphor.
