Words may be false and full of art; Sighs are the natural language of the heart.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
It's only words... unless they're true.
True hearts have eyes and ears, no tongues to speak; they hear and see, and sigh, and then they break.
Words can sting like anything, but silence breaks the heart.
You may choose your words like a connoisseur, And polish it up with art, But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays, Is the word that comes from the heart.
Words can be said in bitterness and anger, and often there seems to be an element of truth in the nastiness. And words don't go away, they just echo around.
But truth is most likely to be exhibited by the general sense of contemporaries, when the feelings of the heart can be expressed without suffering itself to be disguised by the prejudices of man.
All speech is vain and empty unless it be accompanied by action.
Words are most malignant, the most treacherous possession of mankind. They are saturated with the sorrows of all time.
Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.
It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine at least.