Language Quotes

I am . . . joined with eleven others in reporting the debates in Parliament for a Morning Newspaper. Night after night, I record predictions that never come to pass, professions that are never fulfilled, explanations that are only meant to mystify. I wallow in words. ~ David Copperfield by Charles Dickens I go to Gascony, but my words stay here in your memory, and long after Etienne Gerard is forgotten a heart may be warmed or a spirit braced by some faint echo of the words that he has spoken. Gentlemen, an old soldier salutes you and bids you farewell. ~ The Adventures of Gerard by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle The expression of a man's face is commonly a help to his thoughts, or glossary on his speech; but the countenance of Newman Noggs, in his ordinary moods, was a problem which no stretch of ingenuity could solve. ~ Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth,
When thought is speech, and speech is truth. ~ Marmion by Sir Walter Scott Early morning does not mince words. ~ The Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy Words, as is well known, are the great foes of reality. ~ Under Western Eyes by Joseph Conrad Such young men are often awkward, ungainly, and not yet formed in their gait; they straggle with their limbs, and are shy; words do not come to them with ease, when words are required, among any but their accustomed associates. Social meetings are periods of penance to them, and any appearance in public will unnerve them. They go much about alone, and blush when women speak to them. In truth, they are not as yet men, whatever the number may be of their years; and, as they are no longer boys, the world has found for them the ungraceful name of hobbledehoy. ~ The Small House at Allington by Anthony Trollope Human speech is like a cracked tin kettle, on which we hammer out tunes to make bears dance when we long to move the stars. ~ Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert In this way they went on, and on, and on--in the language of the story-books--until at last the village lights appeared before them, and the church spire cast a long reflection on the graveyard grass; as if it were a dial (alas, the truest in the world!) marking, whatever light shone out of Heaven, the flight of days and weeks and years, by some new shadow on that solemn ground. ~ Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens But the words she spoke of Mrs Harris, lambs could not forgive . . . nor worms forget." ~ Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens