Richard Armour Quotes

Rumor ... often is fathered and mothered by false reports.

The nature of rumor is well known to all. It was your own poet who said: 'Rumor, an evil surpassing all evils in speed.'

People will hear one thing and just run with it.

The subject of a rumor is always the last to hear it.

A week went by and nothing. But eventually, as they always will, the rumors reached me. And everyone knows you can't disprove a rumor.

It's only gossip if you repeat it. Until then, it's gathering information.

Don't forget this, too: Rumors aren't interested in the unsensational story; rumors don't care what's true.

And everyone knows you can’t disprove a rumor.

Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures.

Those who feed on rumors are small, suspicious souls.

Rumor with her ten thousand tongues is diffusing her uncertain sounds in almost every ear.

If it were not for a goodly supply of rumors, half true and half false, what would the gossips do?

The nature of rumor is known to all.

Do you know, that is the root of the whole trouble - has been one of the roots at any rate - is people hearing things and then imagining some more and magnifying it and multiplying it.

Rumours are rumours. The Internet is going to report whatever they have to speculate on.

The thing about rumors is that everyone believes something about them, even if they are completely unfounded.

People take everything out of proportion. Everybody loves to stir something. If you listen to everything you hear, there's a lot of different directions you'd be leaning.

Aren't rumors great. Anyone can start them. They're a wonderful way to put out feelers. It's like getting the benefits of a publicist without paying one.

Rumor and gossip, like sound itself, appear to travel by wave-effect, sheer preposterosity being no barrier.

I should never go with rumors because they're often not correct.

Rumor is not always wrong

The ball of rumor and criticism, once it starts rolling, is difficult to stop.

Rumour is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures And of so easy and so plain a stop That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, The still-discordant wavering multitude, Can play upon it.

You can hear rumors. But you can't know them.

Rumors are the sauce of a dry life.