Language is the armory of the human mind and at once contains the trophies of its past and the weapons of its future conquests. 

Making a film means, first of all, to tell a story. That story can be an improbable one, but it should never be banal. It must be dramatic and human. What is drama, after all, but life with the dull bits cut out?

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.

Do not the most moving moments of our lives find us all without words?

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

Unexemplary words and unfounded doctrines are avoided by the noble person. Why utter them?

My language is the common prostitute that I turn into a virgin.

Every man is surrounded by a neighborhood of voluntary spies.

When action grows unprofitable, gather information; when information grows unprofitable, sleep.

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

Language is the archives of history.

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.

It is a luxury to be understood.