Every speaker has a mouth; An arrangement rather neat. Sometimes
Every speaker has a mouth; An arrangement rather neat. Sometimes it's filled with wisdom. Sometimes it's filled with feet.
Hearken, O children of reflection, to the witticism and caution of Robert Orben, who cast his gaze upon the mouths of men and found in them both wisdom and folly. He reminds us that every speaker is endowed with a mouth, a vessel of expression, neat in its design, capable of shaping thought and stirring hearts. Yet, not every utterance brings insight; some speak with care, others stumble and falter, and some fill the air with the absurdity of feet rather than the light of wisdom. Here is a teaching veiled in mirth: to speak is a gift, but it is not a guarantee of understanding.
The origin of this reflection comes from Orben’s life as a humorist and observer of human nature, whose craft lay in unveiling truth through jest. In his words, one finds the eternal tension between eloquence and foolishness, a warning that even the most articulate lips may convey nonsense. His phrasing, playful yet sharp, reminds us that human speech is a double-edged instrument: it may elevate or debase, enlighten or confuse, depending upon the care with which it is wielded.
The meaning of this aphorism extends far beyond jest. It is a call to discernment, teaching that the presence of a voice does not ensure the presence of understanding, and that the act of speaking carries responsibility. In councils, assemblies, and gatherings of minds, many may utter words, yet only some carry the weight of wisdom, guiding decisions, inspiring courage, or revealing truths that endure. Others, though loud, stumble upon their own ignorance, filling the space with folly, metaphorically “feet” where clarity should reside.
History provides ample illustration. Recall the hasty speeches of Cato the Younger in the Roman Senate, whose sharp tongue conveyed wisdom that stirred virtue and action, contrasted with those orators whose empty words swayed only through charm or fear, leaving Rome vulnerable to folly. Orben’s verse reminds us that the quality of speech is the measure, not its mere existence. The wise listener discerns which mouths contain light, and which are burdened with triviality.
Moreover, this teaching resonates in everyday life, in the marketplaces, the councils, and the firesides of human interaction. To speak without thought is to risk filling the world with misdirection, yet to speak with deliberation, humility, and reflection is to transmit the precious treasure of wisdom. Orben’s playful duality—wisdom and feet—warns all who wield the gift of speech: your words may build or they may stumble; choose their substance with care.
Let this counsel endure through the ages: the mouth is a sacred instrument, a channel for thought, feeling, and insight. Fill it with wisdom, not clumsiness; with truth, not vanity. And as generations come to speak, let them remember Orben’s mirthful admonition, that every word carries weight, and that the discerning listener must seek the light of understanding amidst the clatter of mere sound.
NCDe nguyen chuong
This quote reminds me of the importance of humility in communication. The idea that speech can sometimes be clumsy or misguided is comforting—it suggests even experienced speakers are fallible. I also question how we judge the value of what people say: is wisdom inherent in the content, or does it depend on interpretation and reception? It raises a subtle point about the responsibility of both speakers and listeners in shaping meaningful dialogue.
HAAnh cuti Pham Hong Anh
Reading this, I feel both entertained and thoughtful. It cleverly points out that the physical ability to speak doesn’t guarantee substance. I wonder how this applies in the digital age, where social media amplifies every voice regardless of insight. Are we more likely now to encounter mouths filled with ‘feet’ than wisdom? It also makes me consider whether critical listening and discernment are becoming increasingly important skills in navigating public discourse.
PBphuongnguyen builu
This statement provokes a reflective question: how do audiences discern wisdom from nonsense? Even brilliant speakers can have moments where their words falter, and the distinction may lie in context, delivery, or timing. I’m curious whether humor like this works to remind us not to take public speech too seriously, or if it’s a subtle critique of those who use verbosity to mask ignorance. How does one cultivate the skill of speaking effectively and meaningfully?
DPdien phu
I feel amused and slightly cynical reading this. It suggests that not all speech is created equal, and sometimes what comes out is more awkward than intelligent. Could this be a commentary on politics, media, or even everyday conversations? I also wonder how one trains oneself to consistently ‘fill the mouth with wisdom’ instead of missteps. Does self-awareness or experience mitigate these verbal mishaps, or are they inevitable parts of human communication?
HNPham Thi Ha Nhi
This quote strikes me as both humorous and insightful. It makes me reflect on how easily words can either enlighten or embarrass. I wonder why some people who have the opportunity to speak wisely often end up saying things that feel clumsy or nonsensical. Is this a failure of preparation, instinct, or just human nature? It also raises a broader question about responsibility—should everyone speaking publicly take more care to ensure their words carry value?