The natural world is often bleak, but the language devoted to it is as careful as needlepoint and prophetic as well.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Human life is driven forward by its dim apprehension of notions too general for its existing language.
Isn't that what writing is about? The constant attempt to understand the world?
Shakespeare is a wonderful language to speak, but it's also a world to get your mind into thematically.
It's haunting to realize that half of the languages of the world are teetering on the brink of extinction.
The only thing that exists is torment, lyricism, and the magnificence of language.
I think it's linked to the realisation that we're not going to live forever and that the way of saying and the language become more important than the story.
Language is remarkable, except under the extreme constraints of mathematics and logic, it never can talk only about what it's supposed to talk about but is always spreading around.
A lot of our assumptions of the world are fairly cynical, fairly negative, and assume the worst. What our reading tastes show - in this rush to fantasy, romance, whatever - is that we actually still want to believe in a world of possibility, in a world of mystery.
There are worlds of experience beyond the world of the aggressive man, beyond history, and beyond science. The moods and qualities of nature and the revelations of great art are equally difficult to define; we can grasp them only in the depths of our perceptive spirit.
As soon as there is language, generality has entered the scene.