to be Hungarian is not to belong to a people, but instead it’s an illness, an incurable, frightening disease, a misfortune of epidemic proportions that could overcome every single observer with nausea,

[He] mumbled something about how being a Hungarian meant wanting nothing and being prepared for anything. Or was it the other way around.

"Glaring at the doctor, Kev spoke in Romany. <i>"Ka xlia ma pe tute"</i> (I'm going to shit on you.)

"Which means," Rohan said hastily, "'Please forgive the misunderstanding; let's part as friends.'"

<i>"Te malavel les i menkiva,"</i> Kev added for good measure. (May you die of a malignant wasting disease.)

"Roughly translated," Rohan said, "that means, 'May your garden be filled with fine, fat hedgehogs.' Which, I may add, is considered quite a blessing among the Rom.

The secret to my father’s mastery of selling in a language he barely spoke is one word: chutzpah. It’s the Yiddish word for moxie, nerve, audacity; it’s a determined, give-no-f*cks approach to life. When Israelis say you have chutzpah, they mean you know what you want and go for it. They mean you have endless tenacity. They mean you’ll do what it takes.

"I am sure," cried Catherine, "I did not mean to say anything wrong; but it is a nice book, and why should not I call it so?"

"Very true," said Henry, "and this is a very nice day, and we are taking a very nice walk, and you are two very nice young ladies. Oh! It is a very nice word indeed! It does for everything. Originally perhaps it was applied only to express neatness, propriety, delicacy, or refinement — people were nice in their dress, in their sentiments, or their choice. But now every commendation on every subject is comprised in that one word."

Aye.' It's a good word, I think. More a whole attitude than a word, really. With lots of meaning in it, too. A bit of 'yes' and a bit of 'well, fuck' and maybe some 'we're all in this mess together'. So, a word to sum up the Malazans.

"This was one of their love poems:

Mo Rog
Glonog,
Quinba,
Hlin varr.

It meant: "Give me a kiss, please, Miss. I like your nose."

From <b>
<i>Mistress Masham's Repose</i>
</b>"

I wouldn’t say ‘Hello’ to a paskudnyak like that!” “Did you ever hear of such a paskudnyak?” “That whole family is a collection of paskudnyaks.” This word is one of the most greasily graphic, I think, in Yiddish. It offers the connoisseur three nice, long syllables, starting with a sibilant of reprehension and ending with a nasality of scorn. It adds cadence to contempt.

mire ő kijelentette, hogy magyarok nincsenek, hungarian no exist, már kihaltak, they died out, körülbelül úgy száz-százötven évvel ezelőtt kezdődött, és valami hihetetlen módon, tudniillik teljesen észrevétlenül, hungarian?, no exist?, csóválta meg a fejét hitetlenkedve a nő, yes, they died out, erősítette meg határozottan Korim, valamikor a múlt századtól fogva, mivel volt itt egy nagyon nagy keveredés, amiben a végére nem maradt egyetlen magyar sem, csak egy keverék, meg néhány sváb, cigány, szlovák meg osztrák meg zsidó meg román meg horvát meg szerb és így to- vább, és főleg ezeknek a keveréke, de a magyarok eltűntek közben, győzködte a nőt Korim, csak Magyarország van még meg a magyarok helyén, Hungary yes, hungarian not, de már egyetlen őszinte, ép emlék se arról, micsoda különös, nagyszerű, büszke, fékezhetetlen népség volt ez itt, mert az volt, nagyon vad és nagyon tiszta törvények között, akiket kizárólag a nagy tettek örökös véghezvitele tartott ébren, barbárok, akik aztán lassan elvesztették az érdeklődésüket a kis tettekre berendezkedett világ iránt, és elvesztek, degenerálódtak, kipusztultak és elkeveredtek, és nem maradt belőlük más, csak a nyelvük, a költészetük és valami apró, hogyan?, jelezte akkor a nő a homlokát ráncolva, hogy nem érti, de így történt, és az a legérdekesebb, bár őt már nem érdekli egyáltalán, hogy degenerálódásukról és kihalásukról nem beszél senki, az egész ügyről nincs más, csak hazugság, tévedés, félreértés és hülyeség

There is a saying, “A patsh fargeyt, a vort bashteyt” — ”A slap passes, but a word [that is, an insult] remains.

We have to restore the meaning of the word 'love.' We have been using it in a careless way. When we say, 'I love hamburgers,' we are not talking about love. We are talking about our appetite, our desire for hamburgers. We should not dramatize our speech and misuse words like that. We make words like 'love' sick that way. We have to make an effort to heal our language by using words carefully. the word 'love' is a beautiful word. We have to restore its meaning (31).

The word was “kikes.

The sense of differentiation is so acute in Yiddish that a word like, say, paskudnyak has no peer in any language I know for the vocal delineation of a nasty character. And Yiddish coins new names with ease for new personality types: a nudnik is a pest; a phudnik is a nudnik with a Ph.D.

"We say 'far away'; the Zulu has for that a word which means, in our sentence form, 'There where someone cries out: "Oh mother, I am lost." ' The Fuegian soars above our analytic wisdom with a seven-syllabled word whose precise meaning is, 'They stare at one another, each waiting for the other to volunteer to do what both wish, but are not able to do."