chatter [Theme]

Chat less, even with close friends.

Having said something once, why repeat it?

Closing chit-chat is only good for porn.

A drunken tongue will blur everything.

He was definitely out of tune with himself: he was soured in this viscous heat and felt a long-standing monotonous feeling of everyday life - in vain he repeated the phrases that once inspired him: “To be free. To be self-sufficient, to be able to say to myself: I exist because I want to, to be my own source. Empty, high-flown words, the tiresome chatter of an intellectual.

© Mark Dewalt

I can’t even tell you that you are accused of something, or rather, I don’t know anything about it. Yes, you are under arrest, that is true, but I do not know anything else. The guards may have said something to you, but all this is idle chatter. And do not shout like that about your innocence.

Swift was never a utopian, even in his youth. No illusions. The perfection of the human race is a fairy tale of the barrel, that is, meaningless chatter.

Why chat if you have nothing to say?

I've always loved Dora's words, "I have the patience of an ox." I see something good in them, a certain conviction and honesty; in short, these words have a deep meaning, they are the saying of a genuine artist. When you think of the people from whose hearts such words pour out, all the chatter about the "natural giftedness" that you so often hear from the dealers of paintings seems to me a vile croak. "I have patience" - how restrained and dignified it sounds! Such dealers in paintings will never say, even if not everything they say is like a crow's croak. "I'm not an artist" - how can you speak so harshly about yourself? Is it not possible to become patient, is it not possible to learn patience from nature, seeing how slowly wheat ripens, seeing how everything grows? How can you consider yourself so dead as to assume that you will never grow again? Is it possible to deliberately hinder one's own development? I say all this to explain why talking about whether you are gifted or not seems so silly to me.

Spring rain.
Somewhere wandering, chatting carelessly,
Umbrella with cloak.

The high style of the newspaperman is idle talk about politics.

Wash all the bones.

- If you talk so much, oxygen will cease to flow to the brain.