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

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.

Words pay no debts.

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

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

Every man is surrounded by a neighborhood of voluntary spies.

I sometimes think of what future historians will say of us. A single sentence will suffice for modern man: he fornicated and read the papers.

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.

I rather think the cinema will die. Look at the energy being exerted to revive it—yesterday it was color, today three dimensions. I don’t give it forty years more. Witness the decline of conversation. Only the Irish have remained incomparable conversationalists, maybe because technical progress has passed them by.

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

The only authors whom I acknowledge as American are the journalists. They indeed are not great writers, but they speak the language of their countrymen, and make themselves heard by them. 

Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.

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