Words Quotes - Page 6

Better than a thousand sayings Made up of useless wordsIs one word of meaning Which calms you to hear it.

Words fly like stones into clouds and accelerate....

some words bring warmthjust bybeing next to each other.

How weightlesswords are when nothing will do.

Poetry is prose bewitched, a music made of visual thoughts, the sound of an idea.

I am a writer....a master of words.'Like a knife, words should be handled carefully. They can cut deeply, the wound may never heal, and the scar can remain for an eternity.

Be mindful of your thoughts and words for they are the pen writing that which will manifest.

Have your dream...What you need now more than anything is discipline. Cast off mere words. Words turn into stone. (from Thailand)

I didn't like it when he looked at me like that. I could never escape the feeling that i was being compared to someone else.

No matter how hard you try, there are times when things just don't go as planned. And, it's not because you are doing something wrong. It is because the thing you are after is not designed for you. It is not a part of your destiny.

I suppose what one wants really is ideal company and books are ideal company.

Good intentions do not always suffice.

Should’ is my all time least favoriteword! It’s this sort of guilt inducing, finger wagging word that we use to beat up ourselves andothers.

Don’t let me get sappy on you, but when you get right down to it, every collection of letters is a magic spell, even if it’s a moronic proclamation by the Emperor. Words have their impact, girl. Mind your manners. I may not know how to fly but I know how to read, and that’s almost the same thing.

A poetess is not as selfishas you assume.After months of agonising over her marriage of words—the bride—and spaces—the groom,she knows that as soonas she has penned the poem,it’s yours to consume.So, without giving it a think,she blows on the inkand the letters fly awaylike dandelions on a windy day,landing on hands and lips, on hearts and hips.But more often than not,you can easily spotthem trodden and forgotten,becoming sodden and rotten.Yet, she will continue to makewhat’s others to takebecause selfishness is not the mark of a poetess.

Language is fossil poetry

Nothing is more hallowing than the union of kindred spirits in art. At the moment of meeting, the art lover transcends himself. At once he is and is not. He catches a glimpse of Infinity... Freed from the fetters of matter, his spirit moves in the rhythm of things. It is thus that art becomes akin to religion and ennobles mankind. It is this which makes a masterpiece something sacred.

No encounter occured that day, and I was glad of it; I took out of my pocket a little Homer I had not opened since leaving Marseilles, reread three lines of the Odyssey, learned them by heart; then, finding sufficient sustenance in their rhythm and reveling in them at leisure, I closed the book and remained, trembling, more alive than I had thought possible, my mind numb with happiness.

A true lady should have the wit and the imagination, or at least the very restraint, to express herself without resorting herself to such base vocabulary.

Discouraging words should not weigh you down instead they should challenge you

We cannot control the way people interpret our ideas or thoughts, but we can control the words and tones we choose to convey them. Peace is built on understanding, and wars are built on misunderstandings. Never underestimate the power of a single word, and never recklessly throw around words. One wrong word, or misinterpreted word, can change the meaning of an entire sentence and start a war. And one right word, or one kind word, can grant you the heavens and open doors.

There's no point in arguing with an idiot - save for exposing their stupidity in their own words.

Dads. It’s time to show our sons how to properly treat a woman. It’s time to show our daughters how a girl should expect be treated. It’s time to show forgiveness and compassion. It’s time to show our children empathy. It’s time to break social norms and teach a healthier way of life! It’s time to teach good gender roles and to ditch the unnecessary ones. Does it really matter if your son likes the color pink? Is it going to hurt anybody? Do you not see the damage it inflicts to tell a boy that there is something wrong with him because he likes a certain color? Do we not see the damage we do in labeling our girls “tom boys” or our boys “feminine” just because they have their own likes and opinions on things? Things that really don’t matter?

Words are like people, I think. Put too many of them too close together and they cause trouble.

doubters only doubt what they doubt

Let thy words be few. I agree, but only if my ink can relentlessly run.

Our personal story has many chapters that reconnoiter universal themes. We each struggle to understand ourselves and aspire to make ourselves known to the world. We struggle to win the love of other people. We seek to pick all the low hanging fruit that we come across in our journey through the corridor of time. We write our story in the Niagara of emotional experiences that flowing watercourse makes us human. We use a profusion of words, symbols, and the nuances pulled from a rich library of language to depict the cascade of our visions, sounds, smells, tastes, feelings, dreams, and infelicitous thoughts. We use logical and dialectal thought processes when communing with our inner self. We use self-speak along with the esemplastic powers of poetic imagination, sprinkled with the fizz of creativity, to cohere disparate chapters of our life into a unified whole and relay the effervescence of our story to other people.

I like to think of books as lovers; you have to introduce yourself slowly to them, read them one page at a time. Notice them, appreciate them. Respect what they're trying to tell you, let their words caress you, then sink into you, and finally, become a part of you.

Your words... I hold them deeplike ancient skinshold wrinkles.

A thousand words blossomed to her lips and died there, because no amount of speaking could communicate the depths of how he’d affected her. Of how he’d changed her.

A single poemis worth a hundredcozy winter nightskind wordsand healed wounds.

If you do not have control over your mouth, you will not have control over your future.

Where do the words gowhen we have said them?

If someone doesn't care to accept you, respect you, believe in you, don't hesitate to move on and let them go. There are many who love and appreciate you just the way you are.

He was a big talker, someone who liked words for words' sake, the sound of them, the way you can pile them up in your mouth and make a poem if you speill them out the right way.p92

Words never fail. We hear them, we read them; they enter into the mind and become part of us for as long as we shall live. Who speaks reason to his fellowmen bestows it upon them. Who mouths inanity disorders thought for all who listen. There must be some minimum allowable dose of inanity beyond which the mind cannot remain reasonable. Irrationality, like buried chemical waste, sooner or later must seep into all the tissues of thought.

I wondered how he'd learned to push the words away, to drown them, to not feel them pounding against his head and his heart, begging to be spoken.

I have always suspected that correctness is the last refuge of those who have nothing to say.

Be silent or let thy words be worth more than silence.

Words do two major things: They provide food for the mind and create light for understanding and awareness.

We are liable to miss the best of life if we do not know how to tingle, if we do not learn to hoist ourselves just a little higher than we generally are in order to sample the rarest and ripest fruit of art which human thought has to offer.

No one really knows what words mean these days.

Once I have impounded love and towed it into the confine of words, I have lost it altogether.

The Yogic sages say that all the pain of a human life is caused by words, as is all the joy. We create words to define our experience and those words bring attendant emotions that jerk us around like dogs on a leash. We get seduced by our own mantras (I'm a failure... I'm lonely... I'm a failure... I'm lonely...) and we become monuments to them. To stop talking for a while, then, is to attempt to strip away the power of words, to stop choking ourselves with words, to liberate ourselves from our suffocating mantras.

Poetry without words, you are, the beat to my hearts rhythm.

When wisdom comes, transformation comes. Wisdom makes the difference between the succeeding man and the failing man.

No man's advice can change you unless you speak to yourself. Bible school or seminars can't change you, going to church can't change you except you decide to change.Psalm 139:23 - 24

ALL words are made-up: Do you think we find them fully formed on the ocean floor, or mine from them in some remote part of Wales?

Words fail to describewhat i feel anymore.Let me be numb for a while,let me be sore.

If words are to be uttered, they would be from behind the partition. Unaccountable is distance, time to transport from this present minute.If words are to be sounded, impress through the partition in ever slight measure to the other side the other signature the other hearing the other speech the other grasp.

Vocabularies are crossing circles and loops. We are defined by the lines we choose to cross or to be confined by.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then the imagination is worth a thousand pictures.

Every time you open a book for the first time, there is something akin to safe-breaking about it. Yes, that's exactly it: the frantic reader is like a burglar who has spent hours digging a tunnel to enter the strongroom of a bank. He emerges face to face with hundreds of strongboxes, all identical, and opens them one by one. And each time a box is opened, it loses its anonymity and becomes unique: one is filled with paintings, another with a bundle of banknotes, a third with jewels or letters tied in ribbon, engravings, objects of no value at all, silverware, photos, gold sovereigns, dried flowers, files of paper, crystal glasses, or children’s toys--and so on. There is something intoxicating about opening a new one, finding its contents and feeling overjoyed that in a trice one is no longer in front of a set of boxes, but in the presence of the riches and wretched banalities that make up human existence.

Because there are hundreds of different ways to say one thing, I, being a writer, songwriter, and poet, speak childishly and incoherently. In speech there is so much to decide in so little time.

Words can be honed to crafted perfection by the finest wordsmiths. Yet, if we trust solely in the expanse of them to explain this God of ours or articulate our experience of Him, we will have brutally destroyed the very things we are attempting to explain. And if I should do that, no words can describe how badly I wish I had no words.

Words, one may argue, are such a drag, useless - don't think it too much, just do it. And no - I agree - over-thinking is a curse, but it is without words when I over-think, when I over-burn neurons. With words, things find their place. I've said this to myself a million times.

I was thinking lots of things, but most of them needed to stay thoughts, not words.

It's strange how a word, a phrase, a sentence, can feel like a blow to the head.

In the end, it is my belief, words are the only things that can construct a world that makes sense.

I'm very gullible when it comes to my own words. I believe everything I say, though I know I am a liar.