Language is a part of our organism and no less complicated than it.

A good newspaper, I suppose, is a nation talking to itself.

Newspapers always excite curiosity. No one ever lays one down without a feeling of disappointment.

Writing cannot express words fully; words cannot express thoughts fully.

It is difficult for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.

It is a luxury to be understood.

It is impossible to translate the poets. Can you translate music?

Information can tell us everything. It has all the answers. But they are answers to questions we have not asked, and which doubtless don’t even arise.

The chief merit of language is clearness, and we know that nothing detracts so much from this as do unfamiliar terms.

What a glut of books! Who can read them? As already, we shall have a vast chaos and confusion of books; we are oppressed with them, our eyes ache with reading, our fingers with turning.

Words pay no debts.

Language is the archives of history.

The more the pleasures of the body fade away, the greater to me is the pleasure and charm of conversation.