The English language is rather like a monster accordion, stretchable at the whim of the editor, compressible ad lib.

The English language is rather like a monster accordion, stretchable at the whim of the editor, compressible ad lib.

And who in time knows whither we may vent
The treasure of our tongue? To what strange shores
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And who in time knows whither we may vent
The treasure of our tongue? To what strange shores
This gain of our best glory shall be sent,
T' enrich unknowing nations with our stores?
What worlds in th' yet unformed Occident
May come refin'd with th' accents that are ours?

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.

Language is the only instrument of science, and words are but the
signs of ideas.

Language is the only instrument of science, and words are but the
signs of ideas.

The language of truth is unadorned and always simple.

The language of truth is unadorned and always simple.

We defend ourself with descriptions and tame the world by generalizing.

We defend ourself with descriptions and tame the world by generalizing.

The difficulty of literature is not to write, but to write what you mean

The difficulty of literature is not to write, but to write what you mean

Spoken language is merely a series of squeaks.

Spoken language is merely a series of squeaks.

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.