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.

Slang is as old as speech and the congregating together of people in cities. It is the result of crowding and excitement and artificial life.

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?

It is a luxury to be understood.

Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.

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

The newspaper is the natural enemy of the book, as the whore is of the decent woman.

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

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

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

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

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

Man is the one name belonging to every nation upon earth: there is one soul and many tongues, one spirit and various sounds; every country has its own speech, but the subjects of speech are common to all.