O, dread and dire word. Eternity! What mind of man can understand it?
No man means all he says, and yet very few say all they mean, for words are slippery and thought is viscous.
Never should an unfamiliar word be passed over without elucidation; for with a little conscientious research we may each day add to our conquests in the realm of philology, and become more and more ready for graceful independent expression.
Never had he felt the joy of the word more sweetly, never had he known so clearly that Eros dwells in language.
My words in her mind: cold polished stones sinking through a quagmire.
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
Most of us make unconscious choices in the words that we use; we sleepwalk our way through the maze of possibilities available to us.
Men are men, vows are words, and words are wind.
Love is a word used too much and much too soon.
It’s strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words.
It’s a beautiful thing, the destruction of words.
It is true that words have power, and one of the things they are able to do is get out of someone’s mouth before the speaker has the chance to stop them.
