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Words are a pretty blunt instrument. There's always going to be slippage between the words and the infinite complexities of a thought. As a writer, I find that frustrating, but as a social animal, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.

Words, as is well known, are the great foes of reality.

One great use of words is to hide our thoughts.

Words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean. Little audible links, they are, chaining together great inaudible feelings and purposes.

Words are more treacherous and powerful than we think.

So long as I confine my thoughts to my own ideas divested of words, I do not see how I can be easily mistaken.

I think that words are often extraneous to what I do.

I haven't much opinion of words. They're apt to set fire to a dry tongue, that's what I say.

The words are ludicrous at times, but you add the reality to it and that gives it the balance it has.