Words Quotes - Page 24

Dads. It’s time to tell our kids that we love them. Constantly. It’s time to show our kids that we love them. Constantly. It’s time to take joy in their twenty-thousand daily questions and their inability to do things as quickly as we’d like. It’s time to take joy in their quirks and their ticks. It’s time to take joy in their facial expressions and their mispronounced words. It’s time to take joy in everything that our kids are.

He loved words, and he would admit that he was playing with them all the time. He was obsessive about the rhythm of the sentence, and would add a word, subtract a word. [about Truman Capote]

It was more than a string of letters put togetherit was a thick cloak in the coldand a strong defense against an enemyIt was more than the naked heart on paperit was a way to undress sadness … and sinsand an olive branch for the desperateWriting was her prayer and the words were felt.

All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.

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.

We are losing our common vocabulary, built over thousands of years to help and delight and instruct us, for the sake of what we take to be the new technology's virtues.

The church trembled and the hail hammered the roof, but his words glided in the air, joyful and bright like the birds at the cliffs. They floated freely around one another without colliding and the wind carried them high up into heaven.

Words without thought is just that,words...

I love the solitude of reading. I love the deep dive into someone else's story, the delicious ache of a last page.

I think, therefore I am?No, I simply am.I am. I am. I am.I will still be if I didn't think. In fact, it is only then that I would step into a different dimension of consciousness.Yes, I will still be if I didn't think. I will still be if I stopped breathing. I will still be because you still are. My words are written and you are receiving them. We are dancing. We are making love.And when you stop reading them, they will still be because nothing ever truly ceases to exist. There is not a thing that is not. Every thought, energy, and vibration is recycled. I am and I will continue to be because I manifest as the universe, therefore I will continue to manifest as the universe.

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.

Everybody listens to me with a focus on my words. This is a mistake. The words are the vehicle to deliver an idea. Always listen to the idea, it's more valid then any words that I can use.

She had large, questioning eyes that seemed to draw me in and a sense of quiet outrage that simmered just beneath the surface. More than anything, within her features, there was a streak of wild quirkiness that made her dazzlingly attractive.

Words speak to the the mind through the ears and actions speak to the mind through the eye

My books are a word feast.

Step out from behind the words. When you're a writer you can imagine that the words speak for you and are you, but they're not. You are this living breathing bad hair day kind of person.

But there are certain meanings that are lost forever the moment they are explained in words.

I wanted to crawl in between those black lines of print, the way you crawl through a fence, and go to sleep under that beautiful big green fig-tree.

I have no words — alas! — to tellThe loveliness of loving well!

We have too many high sounding words and too few actions that correspond with them.

Names are the way we humans build relationship, not only with each other but with the living world.

some words bring warmthjust bybeing next to each other.

I bleed passion. I’m not entirely sure what this means but I’m greedy over the words. They’re so full of life. And I really need some life to balance out the desperate allure of the dark.

Besides, I always feel safer when I've got words against my heart.

She was a poem and a painting too. Everything she said sounded like a song, every silence was the music too.

No days, perhaps, of all our childhood are ever so fully lived are those that we had regarded as not being lived at all: days spent wholly with a favourite book.

Where do the words gowhen we have said them?

So this is what I amPondering his eyes that could notConceive that I was a creature to run fromI who have always believed too much in words

Words have power.

Just give me a thousand words and you may make your own pictures.

A good book, he had concluded, leaves you wanting to reread the book. A great book compels you to reread your own soul. Such books were for him rare and, as he aged, rarer. Still he searched, one more Ithaca for which he was forever bound.

Words! What power they hold. Once they have rooted in your psyche, it is difficult to escape them. Words can shape the future of a child and destroy the existence of an adult.Words are powerful. Be careful how you use them because once you have pronounced them, you cannot remove the scar they leave behind.

The most important things are the hardest things to say, because words diminish them...

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

Fictions exist because of this fact. Because we have only one life, and our desires and fantasies demand a thousand lives. Because the abyss between what we are and what we would like to be has to be bridged somehow. That was why fictions were born: so that, through living this vicarious, transient, precarious, but also passionate and fascinating life that fiction transports us to, we can incorporate the impossible into the possible and our existence can be both reality and unreality, history and fable, concrete life and marvellous adventure.

speech to him was a task, a battle, words mustered behind his beard and issued one at a time, heavy and square like tanks.

Any punishment is an insult to the crime

Happiness gives you the freedom to enhance your ability to achieve success. Your choices in life are a direct reflection of your level of happiness. It's the sunshine for your soul that you need in order to grow

Hopefully, when your actions and deeds - and therefore other people - boast for you, you're made tired of hearing it, too, from your own mouth because if not, all could lose sight of those actions and deeds behind the gong of your boasting.

We have an odd relationship with words. We learn a few when we are small, throughout our lives we collect others through education, conversation, our contact with books, and yet, in comparison, there are only a tiny number about whose meaning, sense, and denotation we would have absolutely no doubts, if one day, we were to ask ourselves seriously what they meant. Thus we affirm and deny, thus we convince and are convinced, thus we argue, deduce, and conclude, wandering fearlessly over the surface of concepts about which we only have the vaguest of ideas, and, despite the false air of confidence that we generally affect as we feel our way along the road in verbal darkness, we manage, more or less, to understand each other and even, sometimes, to find each other.

Many confuse things with their names. This is a mistake. A name is only a word and a word will never be the thing itself. And, yet, names – as words – have power, not inherently, but because we give it to them.

Don’t beat yourself up, son. I’m sure there is a culture on this spinning ball of dirt where you can be pretty. If not, do rock ‘n roll, or practice words. That shit’s pretty as well.

I've developed a great reputation for wisdom by ordering more books than I ever had time to read, and reading more books, by far, than I learned anything useful from, except, of course, that some very tedious gentlemen have written books.

Have you ever looked at, say, a picture or a great building or read a paragraph in a book and felt the world suddenly expand and, in the same instant, contract and harden into a kernel of perfect purity? Do you know what I mean? Everything suddenly fits, everything's in its place.

A tough life needs a tough language—and that is what poetry is. That is what literature offers—a language powerful enough to say how it is.

I once ran across a list of nearly 400 winds from around the world and wondered why Wyoming, so dominated by wind, has so few names for its variations. . . . There's the wind, the damned wind, and the goddamned wind.

Music is for souls & hearts to dance & sing.Art is for expressing your visionary being.Words are tools for exploring & celebrating.Time is a pool to swim & dream & create in.Waste not one jot of what you are given!Use everything you've got to maximise living.

I have written all the 406 pages of my book in Swahili words. Even the countries are in Swahili. Instead of 'Nigeria', for example, I have written 'Nijeria'. That is how it is written in the Swahili dictionary. This can seem as a minor detail and that people may find my mission close to ridiculous! However, single letters and commas matter.

Curses. Jesus. It took all kinds. There wasn't anything to a curse but words. Just like blessings and prayers and all the rest of it. People used words to try to change what they should be changing with their own two hands. And if the problem was too big to fix, no words called up into the air would make a lick of difference.

Right now, just speak gently your words of wisdom to the youngsters.Sooner or later, those words will arrive at the right place in their hearts.

Lonnie's monotonous speech gives him an advantage, the same advantage foreigners have: his words are not worn out. It is like a code tapped through a wall. Sometimes he asks me straight out: do you love me? and it is possible to tap back: yes, I love you.

Let your words be petty and actions plenty!

Words carry oceans on their small backs.

[Everything you write is] not simply a collection of words, but a means of influence not to be taken lightly. Let your recipient's emotions be the gondola, and your words, its gondolier.

Here's another poem,like all others before and after,dedicated to you.There isn't anything left to be saidbut I will spend my lifetrying to put you into words.You who is every goodness,every optimismand hope.Your love is a better fate for methan anything I could wish for.If you are a part of me, then you’re the best part.And if you're separate from me, then you are my destination.But I’ve become a weary traveller,so please,let us never be apart.

Now we were standing around holding hands and not much was going on. I began to think of words I had known, just for fun, to fill up the blank space in my head. Couch, I thought. Cuisinart, I thought.The words felt different right now than they had before. They meant a little less, held a little less, but seemed somehow fuller: I had never really noticed how much sound there was in a word. The way it filled your mouth up with emptiness, a sort of loosened emptiness that you could tongue, an emptiness you could suck on like a stone. Stomach, I thought. Variety, I thought. Expectation. Intimation. Infiltration. Infiltration: I tongued that one further. I knew it had a hostile aspect, like someone breaking into your house or posing as someone you should trust. But it also had a lovely sound, a kind of tapered point and a gently ruffled edge, and as I repeated it over and over in my mouth it took on a really great flavor and I thought of water filtering in and out of a piece of fabric, back and forth, moving between, soaking it and washing out, soaking in and taking with it pale tremors of color, memory, resistance, all that stuff, until I felt like one of those pieces of cloth on the television commercials that got washed with the name-brand cleanser and is now not only white, but silky and mountain-scented.

There's magic in the words. In the right order, they can make you cry, make you smile, or even make you stronger. But only if you have tasted a life that's worth living.

I am not here to compete in the war of words, I am here to nurture the future of stories.

True beauty is measured by the number of pearls within you, not those around your neck.

Until then I had thought each book spoke of the things, human or divine, that lie outside books. Now I realized that not infrequently books speak of books: it is as if they spoke among themselves. In the light of this reflection, the library seemed all the more disturbing to me. It was then the place of a long, centuries-old murmuring, an imperceptible dialogue between one parchment and another, a living thing, a receptacle of powers not to be ruled by a human mind, a treasure of secrets emanated by many minds, surviving the death of those who had produced them or had been their conveyors.