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

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

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

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

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

Language is the archives of history.

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.

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

Every man is surrounded by a neighborhood of voluntary spies.

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.

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.

No one gossips about other people’s secret virtues.

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.