Every man has a right to utter what he thinks truth, and every other man has a right to knock him down for it. Martyrdom is the test.

Methinks the human method of expression by sound of tongue is very elementary and ought to be substituted for some ingenious invention which should be able to give vent to at least six coherent sentences at once.

Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height.

I have often repented speaking, but never of holding my tongue.

Every man is surrounded by a neighborhood of voluntary spies.

History does not merely touch on language, but takes place in it.

Slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands, and goes to work.

In the case of news, we should always wait for the sacrament of confirmation.

Language ought to be the joint creation of poets and manual workers.

How absurd men are! They never use the liberties they have, they demand those they do not have. They have freedom of thought, they demand freedom of speech.

Language is the house of being. In its home human beings dwell. Those who think and those who create with words are the guardians of this home.

Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.

Words pay no debts.