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And who in time knows whither we may vent
The treasure of our tongue? To what strange shores
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And who in time knows whither we may vent
The treasure of our tongue? To what strange shores
This gain of our best glory shall be sent,
T' enrich unknowing nations with our stores?
What worlds in th' yet unformed Occident
May come refin'd with th' accents that are ours?
The finest language is mostly made up of simple unimposing words.
The finest language is mostly made up of simple unimposing words.
Those who know nothing of foreign languages, knows nothing of their own.
Those who know nothing of foreign languages, knows nothing of their own.
No language is rude that can boast polite writers.
No language is rude that can boast polite writers.
Morals and manners will rise or decline with our attention to
grammar.
Morals and manners will rise or decline with our attention to
grammar.
Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.
Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.
The accent of one's country dwells in the mind and in the heart
as much as in the language.
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The accent of one's country dwells in the mind and in the heart
as much as in the language.
[Fr., L'accent du pays ou l'on est ne demeure dans l'esprit et
dans le coeur comme dans le langage.]
Language is a city to the building of which every human being
brought a stone.
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Language is a city to the building of which every human being
brought a stone.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson,
