As a matter of fact, a national language which spreads beyond its own confines very quickly loses much of its original richness of content and is in no better case than a constructed language.

Language is the most massive and inclusive art we know, a mountainous and anonymous work of unconscious generations.

Language is an anonymous, collective and unconscious art; the result of the creativity of thousands of generations.

We see and hear and otherwise experience very largely as we do because the language habits of our community predispose certain choices of interpretation.

Nonverbal communication is an elaborate secret code that is written nowhere, known by none, and understood by all.

Cultural anthropology is not valuable because it uncovers the archaic in the psychological sense. It is valuable because it is constantly rediscovering the normal.

I am convinced that the stratigraphic method will in the future enable archaeology to throw far more light on the history of American culture than it has done in the past.

The fact of the matter is that the 'real world' is to a large extent unconsciously built up on the language habits of the group.

In a sense, every form of expression is imposed upon one by social factors, one's own language above all.

No two languages are ever sufficiently similar to be considered as representing the same social reality.

One of the glories of English simplicity is the possibility of using the same word as noun and verb.

He then reaches a new low. Without warning, he is suddenly set upon by a bear.

Let every man be master of his fate.

I don't want something special. I want something beautifully plain.

Wealth is a tide which flows into one place by ebbing from another.

You can want success all you want, but to get it, you can’t falter. You can’t slip. You can’t sleep. One eye open, for real, and forever.

I grew up in the Bronx, but in Riverdale - not exactly an area of New York that's known for being rough and tumble.

Somebody ought to have the courage to tell the truth. These people are terrorists.

For only when faithfulness turns to betrayal And betrayal into trust Can any human being become part of the truth.

The outside lights were on, and it was snowing, and it looked like magic. Like we were somewhere else. Like we were someplace better.

Only fools want to be great.