To quarrel with a man of good speech is better than to converse with a man who does not speak well.
Related quotes
The Best is Good Enough
I quarrel not with destiny,
But make the best of everything-
The best is good enough for me.
Leave discontent alone, and she
Will shut her mouth and let you sing.
I quarrel not with destiny.
I take some things, or let 'em be-
Good gold has always got the ring;
The best is good enough for me.
Since fate insists on secrecy,
I have no arguments to bring-
I quarrel not with destiny.
The fellow that goes 'haw' for 'gee'
Will find he hasn't got full swing.
The best is good enough for me.
One only knows our needs, and he
Does all of the distributing.
I quarrel not with destiny:
The best is good enough for me.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Quarrels
There's not much time. All the reasons to quarrel;
used up moments, and never you are right. life
Crumbles when we fight- why not wait to reason,
and then call your rights. Is a thing we all feel…to
win the quarrel against the other. What makes you
think you are always right- you’re full of egocentric
thoughts and lock of selfless. The mirror looks
back- not knowing who reflects. Full of it you!
You detest my opinions and speech, all my intensions
of deed, turn dark. The enemy looks sweeter than you.
I never know which words to speak, where to
start or even how to end...when you try to seduce
my thoughts you end up in quarrels somehow,
it never ends, it never stops, Then you ask “forgive
me” And the humble spirit in me forgives- but again
the war comes back to defeat our peace. Quarrel.
Without you he just can’t be.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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Discretion of speech is more than eloquence, and to speak agreeably to him with whom we deal is more than to speak in good words, or in good order.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel In Pink Converse
She flew right past me one day,
My eyes must have been blinded by her light,
For seconds later she was gone.
So she must have been an angel,
I fell in love with an angel in pink Converse.
Before I could stop and say ‘hello’,
She’d flown away,
And I could only remember the image of
The angel in pink Converse,
My angel in pink Converse.
If all angels were like she,
I would glad die to join them all,
But could they be more beautiful
Than the angel in pink Converse,
My angel in pink Converse.
Maybe, maybe,
Someday she’ll fly again my way,
And I would stop and talk for awhile,
To the angel in pink Converse,
My angel in pink Converse.
Perhaps they all wear Converse in Heaven?
©Charlie F. Kane
24/04/07
poem by Charlie F. Kane
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Speeeeeech!
does it make difference you speak in front of many people or alone
does it make difference you speech in historic place or in your toilet
does it make difference you are charismatic leader or unknown beggar from streetside
it makes difference you speak to clash conflict or for better world
it makes difference you speech bonded by past or to move forward
it makes difference you depend by fact or just soap service
does it make difference you read from text or speak fluently
does it make difference you speech in busy market or deserted mountain
does it make difference you write words yourself or scrap it from books and paper
it makes difference everybody exitedly listens or sleeps peacefully on their seats
it makes difference you have freedom to speak or prisoned by intimidation
it makes difference it gives effect or just a long boring speech
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Skilful Doctor
Function if you are enough skill,
Or work on nobody in front of you.
The words dawdle the air as you speak,
We have understood them now for you speak.
This palaver describes my speech as solid,
Liquids do run thick, liquify your body.
Overpowering speech is a collection of words
Promulgating action and acts of speech as well.
This policy has remained since the weather
Changed last week, lasting peace has remained.
We are authority, we have skills no person retains,
Both us and you are learned in doctoring.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Cat And The Dog In The House Of Their Master
today the cat and the dog of this house
have a holiday of their eternal quarrel
and jealousy
none speaks a bad word for each other
none of them
initiates an argument about whom
of them the master
loves better
none of them
speaks ill about the other neighboring cats
or dogs
the dog does not speak about the bone
the cat does not speak about the rats
both of them are silent and sad
and none wants to speak
beside their master
sick and dying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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311
today the cat and the dog of this house
have a holiday of their eternal quarrel
and jealousy
none speaks a bad word for each other
none of them
initiates an argument about whom
of them the master
loves better
none of them
speaks ill about the other neighboring cats
or dogs
the dog does not speak about the bone
the cat does not speak about the rats
both of them are silent and sad
and none wants to speak
beside their master
he is sick and dying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A silence
Silence may not be weakness
it may not be strictness too
it may speak in voumes
may be smeltt like perfumes
it is said and not done
battles are lost and not won
it has been only dreams
shrouded with only illusions
you may not be able to speak truth
you might have lacked the strength and prooof
this may turn hurdle in your approach
you may not have strength in your speech
When dreams are not realized?
You may may soon be marginalized
You will be feeling helplessness
It may create insecurity and bittterness
You need not grieve
You got to stand up and believe
It is not your day today
Find some alternative and suitable way
Speak out the truth in simple way
It may drag any worry miles awat
You mar realise the power of speech
It may be there within your reach
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Licia Sonnets 37
I speak, fair Licia, what my torments be,
But then my speech too partial do I find;
For hardly words can with those thoughts agree,
Those thoughts that swarm in such a troubled mind.
Then do I vow my tongue shall never speak
Nor tell my grief that in my heart doth lie;
But cannon-like, I then surcharged do break,
And so my silence worse than speech I try.
Thus speech or none, they both do breed my care;
I live dismayed, and kill my heart with grief;
In all respects my case alike doth fare
To him that wants, and dare not ask relief.
Then you, fair Licia, sovereign of my heart,
Read to yourself my anguish and my smart.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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Converse In Silence
when ego declines
your heart's insistence;
love,
converse in silence..
when words cease to exist
and mind repudiates;
love,
converse in silence..
when each word you say
is always held against;
love,
converse in silence..
asked to quit the game
far worse, you couldn't complain;
love's
too terse with silence!
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
William Butler Yeats in Essays, Anima Hominis (1924)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was completely fruitless to quarrel with the world, whereas the quarrel with oneself was occasionally fruitful and always, she had to admit, interesting.
quote by Soren Kierkegaard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Converse with men makes sharp the glittering wit, but God to man doth speak in solitude.
quote by John Stuart Blackie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Though a quarrel in the streets is a thing to be hated, the energies displayed in it are fine; the commonest man shows a grace in his quarrel.
quote by John Keats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speak With Kindness (Or Do Not Speak At All)
speak with kindness,
or do not speak at all.
speak not of judgement,
you are not the judge.
speak not of salvation,
let your living be your scriptures.
speak not of scriptures,
let your actions be your holy book.
speak not as apostle or teacher,
speak as a human being.
speak not of god,
then god will speak through you!
speak not as a man,
for you are woman too.
speak not with hateful malice,
for love does not work that way.
speak not as a prophet or seer,
speak as compassion made flesh.
speak not of morality,
speak of connection.
speak not of authority,
the tree and the leaf have just as much.
speak not of holiness,
for all that lives be holy.
speak with kindness...
or do not speak at all!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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If a university official's letter accusing a speaker of having a proclivity to commit speech crimes before she's given the speech - which then leads to Facebook postings demanding that Ann Coulter be hurt, a massive riot and a police-ordered cancellation of the speech - is not hate speech, then there is no such thing as hate speech.
quote by Ann Coulter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0013 And, Friend...
and if you wonder, friend, why I begin
a poem thus – you are to understand
that it’s as if
we have been close friends all our life,
friends, as Kabir defined a friend
as if no-one ever tried to speak of friend before –
friends, who share the silences between their words
as much as sharing their most inward thoughts;
so, our conversation’s just as much
a continuation of our friendship,
wasting no time in speaking passing things,
sharing some new thought in turn
and asking more for listening
than easy agreement for politeness’ sake;
for, we’re listening to the allness of the all -
all that has been said and
all that cannot yet be said
but thought in silences, in pauses between speech,
all that we might say
when we find words in which to say it,
and because
there’s not much time, to say what we would say
and so, we speak of that which time
can never steal; so there is always time
to speak, and hear the silence
out of which speech comes;
listening for the unspoken
bringing miracles
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Language That The Poor Wants To Speak
do you speak good English?
do you take pride in it and then use it to impress others
and swindle them
into a belief that they are inferior?
they have feelings too
of humiliation
which even in such a sad state
wish that their humiliation
speak good English still
they always think that English will give them
a good job
a better standing in the society
a flare of fashionable tongue
you make them cry
but still they want to speak that cry in English too
foolish!
but can you blame them?
you who hold that power and might
you who have taken all what they once had
and made them
worse within
themselves
despite which,
they still want to be like you
to speak like you
a god
how sad!
you have never known the language of love
the grammar of generosity
the syntax of sympathy
that language that good English
sometimes has forgotten
to utter
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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