A recognized type is the tactless talker.  He says the wrong thing in the right way, and the right thing in the wrong way.  He is impulsive and unguarded.  He reaches hasty conclusions.  He confuses his tactlessness with cleverness.  He is awkward and blundering.  His indifference to the rights and feelings of others is his greatest enemy.  He is a stranger to discretion.  He speaks first, and thinks afterwards.  He may have regrets, but not resolutions.  He is often tolerated, but seldom esteemed.

The temperamental talker is one of the greatest of nerve-destroyers.  He deals in superlatives.  He views everything emotionally.  He talks feelingly of trifles, and ecstatically of friends.  He gushes.  He flatters.  To him everything is “wonderful,” “prodigious,” “superb,” “gorgeous,” “heavenly,” “amazing,” “indescribable,” “overwhelming.”  Extravagance and exaggeration permeate his most commonplace observations.  He is an incurable enthusiast.

The tantalizing talker is one who likes to contradict you.  He divides his attention between what you are saying and what he can summon to oppose you.  He dissents from your most ordinary observations.  His favorite phrases are, “I don’t think so,” “There is where you are wrong,” “I beg to differ,” and “Not only that.”  Tell him it will be a fine day, and he will declare that the signs indicate foul weather.  Say that the day is unpromising, and he will assure you it does not look that way to him.  He cavils at trifles.  He disputes even when there is no antagonist.

To listen to the tortuous talker is a supreme test of patience.  He slowly winds his way in and out of a subject.  He traverses by-paths, allowing nothing to escape his unwearied eye.  He goes a long way about, but never tires of his circuitous journey.  Ploddingly and perseveringly he zigzags from one point to another.  He alters his course as often as the crooked way of his subject changes.  He twists, turns, and diverges without the slightest inconvenience to himself.  He likes nothing better than to trace out details.  His talking disease is discursiveness.

The tranquil talker never hurries.  He has all the time there is.  If you are very busy he will wait.  He is uniformly moderate and polite.  He is a rare combination of oil, milk, and rose-water.  He would not harm a syllable of the English language.  His talking has a soporific effect.  It acts as a lullaby.  His speech is low and gentle.  He never speaks an ill-considered word.  He chooses his words with measured caution.  He is what is known as a smooth talker.

The torpedo talker is of the rapid fire explosive variety.  He bursts into a conversation.  He scatters labials, dentals, and gutturals in all directions.  He is a war-time talker,—­boom, burst, bang, roar, crash, thud!  He fills the air with vocal bullets and syllabic shrapnel.  He is trumpet-tongued, ear-splitting, deafening.  He fires promiscuously at all his hearers.  He rends the skies asunder.  He is nothing if not vociferous, stentorian, lusty.  He demolishes every idea in his way.  He is a Napoleon of words.