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Words are like leaves, and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found |
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Words are like weapons; they wound sometimes |
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Words are poor interpreters in the realms of emotion. When all words end, music begins; when they suggest, it realizes; and hence is the secret of its strange, inexpressible power. |
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Words are sometimes sensitive instruments of precision with which delicate operations may be performed and swift, elusive truths may be touched; often they are clumsy tools with which we grope in the dark toward truths more inaccessible but no less s |
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Words are the leaves of the tree of language, of which, if some fall away, a new succession takes their place |