Day 13: I am so grateful for words: orations that call to arms, inspiring men and women to risk all for ideal; thought to page that blows billowing laughter from your gut; turns of phrase that break the dawn on an idea that strayed so long in the gloaming; the term that trips from tongue tip to snap the abstract into razor-sharpness. Not just the wit and acuity of them, but their potential for honesty—the stark, naked truth. One of my most recent favorites, from Shakespeare’s Coriolanus:
His nature is too noble for the world:
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for’s power to thunder. HIS HEART’S HIS MOUTH:
WHAT HIS BREAST FORGES, THAT HIS TONGUE MUST VENT;
And, being angry, does forget that ever
He heard the name of death.
What a glorious aspiration.
Thank you Lord, for your blessings on me.