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.

Language is the archives of history.

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.

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.

Anyone who doesn’t know foreign languages knows nothing of his own.

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

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

It is a luxury to be understood.

Under all speech that is good for anything, there lies a silence that is better. Silence is deep as eternity; speech is shallow as time.

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

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

God never sent a messenger save with the language of his folk, that he might make the message clear for them.

I am always sorry when any language is lost, because languages are the pedigrees of nations.