It is with words as with sunbeams - the more they are condensed, the deeper they burn.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
If you be pungent, be brief; for it is with words as with sunbeams - the more they are condensed the deeper they burn.
If you would be pungent, be brief; for it is with words as with sunbeams - the more they are condensed, the deeper they burn.
It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it.
Words are also seeds, and when dropped into the invisible spiritual substance, they grow and bring forth after their kind.
And though thou notest from thy safe recess old friends burn dim, like lamps in noisome air love them for what they are; nor love them less, because to thee they are not what they were.
Words are chameleons, which reflect the color of their environment.
Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name?
Words fashioned with somewhat over precise diction are like shapes turned out by a cookie cutter.
The more living patterns there are in a place - a room, a building, or a town - the more it comes to life as an entirety, the more it glows, the more it has that self-maintaining fire which is the quality without a name.
Words are only painted fire; a look is the fire itself.