Always speak the truth, think before you speak, and write it

The words of Lewis Carroll—“Always speak the truth, think before you speak, and write it down afterwards”—carry within them a threefold wisdom, as if he were offering us a ladder of discipline for the tongue, the mind, and the hand. Carroll, the mathematician, logician, and storyteller, knew well the power of words. They can wound or heal, enslave or set free, vanish like smoke or endure like stone. His command is simple, but its depth is vast: let your speech be truthful, let your mind be thoughtful, and let your memory be faithful, preserved in writing for the ages.

To speak the truth is the foundation. Without truth, words are poison, and the soul that utters them corrodes itself. Carroll warns that every word carries weight, and that truth must be the first rule of speech. Yet he adds the second command: think before you speak. For truth alone, untempered, can be harsh or reckless. The wise do not hurl truth like a spear; they shape it with thought, offering it as a gift that nourishes rather than destroys. Thus Carroll joins honesty with reflection, creating harmony between sincerity and wisdom.

The third command, write it down afterwards, reveals his deeper genius. For spoken words, though honest and thoughtful, fade quickly; but writing endures. Writing is the act of binding truth to the page, giving it permanence beyond the fleeting moment. Carroll himself practiced this, weaving his thoughts into stories that still guide and delight the world. In this final command, he teaches that wisdom, once spoken and refined, must be preserved, for the sake of remembrance, for the education of others, and for the testimony of history.

History offers many examples of this triad at work. Consider Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor. He sought always to speak truth to his people and to govern with justice. Yet he also practiced deep reflection, restraining his words with thought. And he wrote—his Meditations, intended at first only for himself, have endured for centuries as a treasure of wisdom. In him we see Carroll’s command fulfilled: truth spoken, reflection guiding, writing preserving. His words, though born in private, have become public pillars of philosophy.

In contrast, we may recall moments when truth was absent, or thought neglected, or writing ignored. Many a ruler has spoken rashly, igniting wars. Many a thinker has hoarded wisdom in silence, leaving no trace for future generations. Many a man has lived honestly but left no record, and thus his truth perished with him. Carroll reminds us that virtue in speech must be paired with discipline in thought and permanence in writing, else truth becomes a flicker rather than a flame.

The lesson, then, is this: let your words pass through three gates before they leave you. Ask: Is it true? Is it thoughtful? Can it be preserved? In your daily life, speak truth even when it costs you, restrain your tongue until your mind has weighed its meaning, and cultivate the habit of writing—journals, reflections, letters, works that may carry your truth into the future. In this way, your words will not only serve the present but echo across generations.

Therefore, O seeker, remember Carroll’s wisdom: truth, thought, and testimony. To live by these is to live as one who honors the power of words, one who builds with them rather than destroys. Do not speak lies, do not speak rashly, and do not let your wisdom vanish unrecorded. Speak with honesty, think with care, and write with purpose, and your life will become a beacon, your words a legacy, and your truth a guide to those yet unborn.