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Quote by Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“Our choice of words often reveal the depth of our knowledge … or ignorance … or that of our desire to be deemed knowledgeable.”

Quote by Mokokoma Mokhonoana

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Mokokoma Mokhonoana

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“It’s the Queen’s English now,’ observed Peter mildly. ‘Is there a difference?’ asked Oundle rhetorically. ‘I fervently hope not.’ ‘There will be in time,’ said Peter. ‘That will be deplorable,’ replied Oudle. ‘I shall not myself deviate by a syllable from correct usage.’ ‘My language is foul, and yours is Fowler?’ said Peter, and added one of his sudden quirky smiles, ‘or know your Onions.’ This quip crossed the barrier of the table, because the man sitting nearly opposite Peter laughed. ‘Onions?’ said Oudle. ‘C.T. Onions, I imagine,’ said the man opposite. ‘Editor of the Oxford English Dictionary.’ ‘Oh, I see,’ said Oudle. ‘Very droll.”

“This unfortunate phenomenon happened throughout the professor’s career—the students, who could not bear natural interest in the lectures, profited off O’Hare’s passion. They rested their fangs on her neck and used her original elixir for their needs. If they did it unconsciously, then another phenomenon would occur. The students imitated their teachers. And it was the largest robbery of education. By using the vocabulary of their passionate elders, young, ambitious minds convinced themselves and the world of something they did not believe in. Articulation was so personal. It was the result of countless experiences, people, readings, and reflections. When expressing an authentic belief, some ears were fooled by the speaker’s passion, which was like a contagious trance. So those ears applied others’ articulation as their own. By seeing O’Hare speak enthusiastically about a topic, one, with enough attention, could easily think they loved the topic, too.”

“Mr Hobbes, in the preface to his own bald translation of the "Ilias," (studying poetry as he did mathematics, when it was too late,) Mr Hobbes, I say, begins the praise of Homer where he should have ended it. He tells us, that the first beauty of an epic poem consists in diction; that is, in the choice of words, and harmony of numbers. Now the words are the colouring of the work, which, in the order of nature, is last to be considered; the design, the disposition, the manners, and the thoughts, are all before it: where any of those are wanting or imperfect, so much wants or is imperfect in the imitation of human life, which is in the very definition of a poem. Words, indeed, like glaring colours, are the first beauties that arise, and strike the sight; but, if the draught be false or lame, the figures ill disposed, the manners obscure or inconsistent, or the thoughts unnatural, then the finest colours are but daubing, and the piece is a beautiful monster at the best. Neither Virgil nor Homer were deficient in any of the former beauties; but in this last, which is expression, the Roman poet is at least equal to the Grecian, as I have said elsewhere: supplying the poverty of his language by his musical ear, and by his diligence.”