Just imagine the silence in the world, if people talked only what they knew - Karel Čapek

Only years of practice will teach you the mysteries and bold certainty of a real gardener, who treads at random, yet tramples on nothing.

It is worth nothing that their neologisms, pronounciations and simplified grammar was quickly adopted by both the simplest people in the ports and by the so-called best people; and from the ports this way of speaking spread out into the newspapers and was soon in general use. Even many humans stopped attending to grammatical gender, word endings were dropped, declinations disappeared; our golden youth neglected to say r properly and learned to lisp; few educated people were any longer certain what was meant by 'indeterminism' or 'transcendent', simply because these words, even for human beings, were too long and too hard to pronounce. In short, for good or for ill, the newts became able to speak almost every language of the world according to what coast they lived on. About this time, some of the Czech national newspapers began to complain bitterly, no doubt with good reason, that none of the newts could speak their language. If there were salamanders who could speak Portuguese, Dutch and the languages of other small nations why were there none that could speak Czech? It was true, they conceded in regretful and learned terms, that Czechoslovakia had no sea coasts, and that means there will be no marine newts here, but that does not mean that Czechs should not play the same part in the culture of the world as many of the other nations whose language was being taught to thousands of newts, or perhaps even a greater part. It was only right and proper that the newts should also have some knowledge of Czech culture; but how were they to be informed about it if none of them knew the Czech language? It was not likely that someone somewhere in the world would acknowledge this cultural debt and found a chair in Czech and Czechoslovak literature at one of the newt universities. As the poet puts it, 'Trust no-one in the whole wide world, we have no friends out there'.

Komunální politika většinou rezignovaně odumírá na malé poměry. Lokální ctižádost přestává existovat, tak jako už neexistuje a neroste ivančický chřest. Žít v Olomouci nebo v Kutné Hoře platí za jakési vyhnanství. Zatratili jsme lokální cit, aniž bychom získali cit státní. Malé poměry nevznikají tím, že máme malá města, nýbrž tím, že jsme v nich neradi. Hledá-li člověk romantické dobrodružství, je mu v takovém případě jeho zahrádka ovšem příliš malá; ale chce-li uhrabat cestičky nebo vyplet bejlí, shledá, že je zatraceně veliká, větší, než vůbec tušil. Jak zřejmo, v odhadu velikostí a poměrů záleží na hledisku, které volíme.