He who knows other languages feels even closer to his own language.

Language is the only thing worth knowing even poorly.

Solely in the world of languages is the amateur of value. Well-intentioned sentences full of mistakes can still build bridges between people.

One should connect language learning with either work or leisure. And not at the expense of them but to supplement them.

Aside from mastery in the fine arts, success in learning anything is the result of genuine interest and amount of energy dedicated to it.

I feel such a difference between a philologist/linguist and a linguaphile as, say, a choreographer and a ballerina.

Language is present in a piece of work like the sea in a single drop.

My view is that knowing languages is part of the process of becoming a cultured person.

Knowledge—like a nail—is made load-bearing by being driven in. If it's not driven deep enough, it will break when any weight is put upon it.

Whenever I read statistical reports, I try to imagine my unfortunate contemporary, the Average Person, who, according to these reports, has 0.66 children, 0.032 cars, and 0.046 TVs.

Lives based on having are less free than lives based either on doing or on being.

As for the Sun mouse, I'm not a big multi-button mouse fan, because I just can't remember which button to push when. I rather like the Macintosh system of using four modifier keys with the mouse.

You can't really judge characters, because that's when it gets really hard to play them.

The fame and the fame-hungry world we live in does it all for you. Women are lining up on your Instagram account to meet you.

The fields and the flowers and the beautiful faces are not ours, as the stars and the hills and the sunlight are not ours, but they give us fresh and happy thoughts.

Neophyte writers tend to believe that there is something magical about ideas and that if they can just get a hold of a good one, then their futures are ensured.

A lot of God-loving people think that killing people who don't agree with them is OK.

How can life be worth living, if devoid Of the calm trust reposed by friend in friend? What sweeter joy than in the kindred soul, Whose converse differs not from self-communion?

I don't think I'm a follower, frankly.

I've been careful in love. I've been careless in love. And I've had adventures I wouldn't trade for anything.