Inadequacy Of Words Quotes

“Words are a pretext. It is the inner bond that draws one person to another, not words.”
― Rumi

“In the English language there are orphans and widows, but there is no word for the parents who lose a child.”
― Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper

“If you could say it in words, there would be no reason to paint.”
― Edward Hopper

“For in spite of language, in spite of intelligence and intuition and sympathy, one can never really communicate anything to anybody.”
― Aldous Huxley

“Words, he decided, were inadequate at best, impossible at worst. They meant too many things. Or they meant nothing at all.”
― Patricia A. McKillip, In the Forests of Serre

“People to whom sin is just a matter of words, to them salvation is just words too.”
― William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying

“The struggle of literature is in fact a struggle to escape from the confines of language; it stretches out from the utmost limits of what can be said; what stirs literature is the call and attraction of what is not in the dictionary.”
― Italo Calvino

“Words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean.  Little audible links, they are, chaining together great inaudible feelings and purposes.”
― Theodore Dreiser

“The inscription on his gravestone had felt so wholly insufficient the moment she saw it. Just a name and dates, carved by machine. Just the inadequate and impersonal. Loving Father and Husband, like every other headstone there, whether it was true or not. This was the tasteful way to do it, she knew, even though it showed none of the true shape of the man”
― Stuart Nadler, The Inseparables

“Newly arrived and quite ignorant of the languages of the Levant, Marco Polo could express himself only by drawing objects from his baggage -- drums, salt fish, necklaces of wart hog's teeth -- and pointing to them with gestures, leaps, cries of wonder or of horror, imitating the bay of the jackal, the hoot of the owl.

The connections between one element of the story and another were not always obvious to the emperor; the objects could have various meanings: a quiver filled with arrows could indicate the approach of war, or an abundance of game, or else an armorer's shop; an hourglass could mean time passing, or time past, or sand, or a place where hourglasses are made.

But what enhanced for Kublai every event or piece of news reported by his inarticulate informer was the space that remained around it, a void not filled with words. The descriptions of cities Marco Polo visited had this virtue: you could wonder through them in thought, become lost, stop and enjoy the cool air, or run off.

As time went by, words began to replace objects and gestures in Marco's tales: first exclamations, isolated nouns, dry verbs, then phrases, ramified and leafy discourses, metaphors and tropes. The foreigner had learned to speak the emperor's language or the emperor to understand the language of the foreigner.

But you would have said that communication between them was less happy than in the past: to be sure, words were more useful than objects and gestures in the listing of the most important things of every province and city -- monuments, markets, costumes, fauna and flora -- and yet when Polo began to talk about how life must be in those places, day after day, evening after evening, words failed him, and little by little, he went back to relying on gestures, grimaces, glances.”
― Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities