The idea of being stuck in a plane with dozens of people chatting over each other on their phones might feel like Dante's 10th circle of hell.
Whom the disease of talking still once posses-seth, he can never hold his peace.
A gentleman that loves to hear himself talk, will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
I know a lady that loves to talk so incessantly, she won't give an echo fair play; she has that everlasting rotation of tongue that an echo must wait till she dies before it can catch her last words!
It was fun to talk too much [as Jebediah Woodley], to keep running your mouth whether the other characters want to hear it or not. That's part of what made this guy fun.
I love Nudge, Nudge is a great kid, but that motormouth of hers could have turned Mother Teresa into an ax murderer.
Talkativeness has another plague attached to it, even curiosity; for praters wish to hear much that they may have much to say.
You know, in the case of most of us, the mind is noisy, everlastingly chattering to itself, soliloquizing or chattering about something, or trying to talk to itself, to convince itself of something; it is always moving, noisy.
There is such a torture, happily unknown to ancient tyranny, as talking a man to death. Marcus Aurelius advises to assent readily to great talkers--in hopes, I suppose, to put an end to the argument.
For my part, I can compare her (a gossip) to nothing but the sun; for, like him, she knows no rest, nor ever sets in one place but to rise in another.
