An Argument (n.) requires that the parties to some extent understand one another, so every word must signify one thing.
An Argument (n.) can overpower us like a passion: as Philolaus said, some arguments are too strong for us.
An Argument (n.) can stir the generous young but cannot make the many good, for they obey not shame but fear, and have never tasted what is noble.
An Argument (n.) is useful for life as well as knowledge, when true: because it fits the facts it is believed, and so moves people to live by it.
An Argument (n.) must not be allowed to abolish a fact: Socrates argued incontinence away, yet men plainly do what they know to be bad.
An Argument (n.) pleases most when we foresee its conclusion just before it arrives — part of the pleasure is in our own intelligent anticipation.
An Argument (n.) is wasted on some: children, the sick and the insane need not argument but years, medicine or the rod — and the multitude needs not argument but suffering.
An Argument (n.) must fit the opponent: some need persuasion, others compulsion; the honestly puzzled are cured through their thought, those who argue for argument's sake only through their words.
An Argument (n.) should not bully perception: men who cannot find the flaw feel compelled to believe — yet a thing may be true but not for the reason argued, for truth can be proved by falsehood.