What do you think?
Discours de réception du prix Nobel de littérature, 7 décembre 1993
Toni Morrison, winner of the 1993 Nobel Prize in Literature, reads the speech she delivered in Stockholm, Sweden, at the Nobel Prize Award Ceremony.
17 pages, Kindle Edition
Published April 9, 2021
About the author
Toni Morrison
190 books26.1k followersChloe Anthony Wofford Morrison, known as Toni Morrison, was an American novelist and editor. Her first novel, The Bluest Eye, was published in 1970. The critically acclaimed Song of Solomon (1977) brought her national attention and won the National Book Critics Circle Award. In 1988, Morrison won the Pulitzer Prize for Beloved (1987); she was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1993.
Born and raised in Lorain, Ohio, Morrison graduated from Howard University in 1953 with a B.A. in English. Morrison earned a master's degree in American Literature from Cornell University in 1955. In 1957 she returned to Howard University, was married, and had two children before divorcing in 1964. Morrison became the first black female editor for fiction at Random House in New York City in the late 1960s. She developed her own reputation as an author in the 1970s and '80s. Her novel Beloved was made into a film in 1998. Morrison's works are praised for addressing the harsh consequences of racism in the United States and the Black American experience.
The National Endowment for the Humanities selected Morrison for the Jefferson Lecture, the U.S. federal government's highest honor for achievement in the humanities, in 1996. She was honored with the National Book Foundation's Medal of Distinguished Contribution to American Letters the same year. President Barack Obama presented her with the Presidential Medal of Freedom on May 29, 2012. She received the PEN/Saul Bellow Award for Achievement in American Fiction in 2016. Morrison was inducted into the National Women's Hall of Fame in 2020.
Born and raised in Lorain, Ohio, Morrison graduated from Howard University in 1953 with a B.A. in English. Morrison earned a master's degree in American Literature from Cornell University in 1955. In 1957 she returned to Howard University, was married, and had two children before divorcing in 1964. Morrison became the first black female editor for fiction at Random House in New York City in the late 1960s. She developed her own reputation as an author in the 1970s and '80s. Her novel Beloved was made into a film in 1998. Morrison's works are praised for addressing the harsh consequences of racism in the United States and the Black American experience.
The National Endowment for the Humanities selected Morrison for the Jefferson Lecture, the U.S. federal government's highest honor for achievement in the humanities, in 1996. She was honored with the National Book Foundation's Medal of Distinguished Contribution to American Letters the same year. President Barack Obama presented her with the Presidential Medal of Freedom on May 29, 2012. She received the PEN/Saul Bellow Award for Achievement in American Fiction in 2016. Morrison was inducted into the National Women's Hall of Fame in 2020.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 42 reviews
March 25, 2018
"She is convinced that when language dies, out of carelessness, disuse, indifference and absence of esteem, or killed by fiat, not only she herself, but all users and makers are accountable for its demise. In her country children have bitten their tongues off and use bullets instead to iterate the voice of speechlessness, of disabled and disabling language, of language adults have abandoned altogether as a device for grappling with meaning, providing guidance, or expressing love. But she knows tongue-suicide is not only the choice of children. It is common among the infantile heads of state and power merchants whose evacuated language leaves them with no access to what is left of their human instincts for they speak only to those who obey, or in order to force obedience."
Read it here:
https://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_priz...
Or listen to it on YouTube
Read it here:
https://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_priz...
Or listen to it on YouTube
May 29, 2015
Reading this while hearing Toni Morrison give the speech is a different kind of experience.
You can find it here http://www.nobelprize.org/mediaplayer... and I would suggest giving it a go because it’s something to take into consideration.
You can find it here http://www.nobelprize.org/mediaplayer... and I would suggest giving it a go because it’s something to take into consideration.
October 27, 2009
In a collection of lectures by some of the greatest writers of our time, it's hard to imagine anyone not finding something to admire. They all--in one way or another--address the basic question: why write? Why do I write? Why do human beings write? Why does writing matter? And while their answers might differ, their passion for the subject is the same. If you love literature, if you are a writer or a passionate reader, you will find more than enough in this book to make it worth picking up.
August 27, 2025
Very strong start to Toni Morrison seminar
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August 31, 2026Eight quotes from the Nobel Lecture in Literature, 1993:
“"Old woman, I hold in my hand a bird.
Tell me whether it is living or dead."
She does not answer, and the question is repeated. "Is the bird I am holding living or dead?"
Still she does not answer. She is blind and cannot see her visitors, let alone what is in their hands. She does not know their color, gender or homeland.
She only knows their motive.
The old woman's silence is so long, the young people have trouble holding their laughter.
Finally she speaks, and her voice is soft but stern. "I don't know," she says. "I don't know whether the bird you are holding is dead or alive, but what I do know is that it is in your hands. It is in your hands."” (Morrison 1994: 10–11)
“Underneath the eloquence, the glamour, the scholarly associations, however stirring or seductive, the heart of such language is languishing, or perhaps not beating at all — if the bird is already dead.” (Morrison 1994: 18)
“When a President of the United States thought about the graveyard his country had become, and said, "The world will little note nor long remember what we say here. But it will never forget what they did here," his simple words were exhilarating in their life-sustaining properties because they refused to encapsulate the reality of 600,000 dead men in a cataclysmic race war. Refusing to monumentalize, disdaining the "final word," the precise "summing up," acknowledging their "poor power to add or detract," his words signal deference to the uncapturability of the life it mourns. It is the deference that moves her, that recognition that language can never live up to life once and for all. Nor should it. Language can never "pin down" slavery, genocide, war. Nor should it yearn for the arrogance to be able to do so. Its force, its felicity, is in its reach toward the ineffable.” (Morrison 1994: 20–21)
“We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.” (Morrison 1994: 22)
“"Your answer is artful, but its artfulness embarrasses us and ought to embarrass you. Your answer is indecent in its self-congratulation. A made-for-television script that makes no sense if there is nothing in our hands.
"Why didn't you reach out, touch us with your soft fingers, delay the sound bite, the lesson, until you knew who we were? Did you so despise our trick, our modus operandi, that you could not see that we were baffled about how to get your attention? We are young. Unripe. We have heard all our short lives that we have to be responsible. What could that possibly mean in the catastrophe this world has become; where, as a poet said, "nothing needs to be exposed since it is already barefaced"? Our inheritance is an affront. You want us to have your old, blank eyes and see only cruelty and mediocrity. Do you think we are stupid enough to perjure ourselves again and again with the fiction of nationhood? How dare you talk to us of duty when we stand waist deep in the toxin of your past?
"You trivialize us and trivialize the bird that is not in our hands. Is there no context for our lives? No song, no literature, no poem full of vitamins, no history connected to experience that you can pass along to help us start strong? You are an adult. The old one, the wise one. Stop thinking about saving your face. Think of our lives and tell us your particularized world. Make up a story. Narrative is radical, creating us at the very moment it is being created. We will not blame you if your reach exceeds your grasp; if love so ignites your words that they go down in flames and nothing is left but their scald. Or if, with the reticence of a surgeon's hands, your words suture only the places where blood might flow. We know you can never do it properly — once and for all. Passion is never enough; neither is skill. But try. For our sake and yours forget your name in the street; tell us what the world has been to you in the dark places and in the light. Don't tell us what to believe, what to fear. Show us belief's wide skirt and the stitch that unravels fear's caul. You, old woman, blessed with blindness, can speak the language that tells us what only language can: how to see without pictures.
Language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no names. Language alone is meditation.” (Morrison 1994: 25–28)
“"Tell us what it is to be a woman so that we may know what it is to be a man. What moves at the margin. What it is to have no home in this place. To be set adrift from the one you knew. What it is to live at the edge of towns that cannot bear your company.” (Morrison 1994: 28–29)
“"Tell us about ships turned away from shorelines at Easter, placenta in a field. Tell us about a wagonload of slaves, how they sang so softly their breath was indistinguishable from the falling snow. How they knew from the hunch of the nearest shoulder that the next stop would be their last. How, with hands prayered in their sex, they thought of heat, then sun. Lifting their faces as though it was there for the taking. Turning as though there for the taking. They stop at an inn. The driver and his mate go in with the lamp, leaving them humming in the dark. The horse's void steams into the snow beneath its hooves and the hiss and melt are the envy of the freezing slaves.” (Morrison 1994: 29)
“"The inn door opens: a girl and a boy step away from its light. They climb into the wagon bed. The boy will have a gun in three years, but now he carries a lamp and a jug of warm cider. They pass it from mouth to mouth. The girl offers bread, pieces of meat and something more: a glance into the eyes of the one she serves. One helping for each man, two for each woman. And a look.
They look back. The next stop will be their last. But not this one. This one is warmed."”(Morrison 1994: 30)
“"Old woman, I hold in my hand a bird.
Tell me whether it is living or dead."
She does not answer, and the question is repeated. "Is the bird I am holding living or dead?"
Still she does not answer. She is blind and cannot see her visitors, let alone what is in their hands. She does not know their color, gender or homeland.
She only knows their motive.
The old woman's silence is so long, the young people have trouble holding their laughter.
Finally she speaks, and her voice is soft but stern. "I don't know," she says. "I don't know whether the bird you are holding is dead or alive, but what I do know is that it is in your hands. It is in your hands."” (Morrison 1994: 10–11)
“Underneath the eloquence, the glamour, the scholarly associations, however stirring or seductive, the heart of such language is languishing, or perhaps not beating at all — if the bird is already dead.” (Morrison 1994: 18)
“When a President of the United States thought about the graveyard his country had become, and said, "The world will little note nor long remember what we say here. But it will never forget what they did here," his simple words were exhilarating in their life-sustaining properties because they refused to encapsulate the reality of 600,000 dead men in a cataclysmic race war. Refusing to monumentalize, disdaining the "final word," the precise "summing up," acknowledging their "poor power to add or detract," his words signal deference to the uncapturability of the life it mourns. It is the deference that moves her, that recognition that language can never live up to life once and for all. Nor should it. Language can never "pin down" slavery, genocide, war. Nor should it yearn for the arrogance to be able to do so. Its force, its felicity, is in its reach toward the ineffable.” (Morrison 1994: 20–21)
“We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.” (Morrison 1994: 22)
“"Your answer is artful, but its artfulness embarrasses us and ought to embarrass you. Your answer is indecent in its self-congratulation. A made-for-television script that makes no sense if there is nothing in our hands.
"Why didn't you reach out, touch us with your soft fingers, delay the sound bite, the lesson, until you knew who we were? Did you so despise our trick, our modus operandi, that you could not see that we were baffled about how to get your attention? We are young. Unripe. We have heard all our short lives that we have to be responsible. What could that possibly mean in the catastrophe this world has become; where, as a poet said, "nothing needs to be exposed since it is already barefaced"? Our inheritance is an affront. You want us to have your old, blank eyes and see only cruelty and mediocrity. Do you think we are stupid enough to perjure ourselves again and again with the fiction of nationhood? How dare you talk to us of duty when we stand waist deep in the toxin of your past?
"You trivialize us and trivialize the bird that is not in our hands. Is there no context for our lives? No song, no literature, no poem full of vitamins, no history connected to experience that you can pass along to help us start strong? You are an adult. The old one, the wise one. Stop thinking about saving your face. Think of our lives and tell us your particularized world. Make up a story. Narrative is radical, creating us at the very moment it is being created. We will not blame you if your reach exceeds your grasp; if love so ignites your words that they go down in flames and nothing is left but their scald. Or if, with the reticence of a surgeon's hands, your words suture only the places where blood might flow. We know you can never do it properly — once and for all. Passion is never enough; neither is skill. But try. For our sake and yours forget your name in the street; tell us what the world has been to you in the dark places and in the light. Don't tell us what to believe, what to fear. Show us belief's wide skirt and the stitch that unravels fear's caul. You, old woman, blessed with blindness, can speak the language that tells us what only language can: how to see without pictures.
Language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no names. Language alone is meditation.” (Morrison 1994: 25–28)
“"Tell us what it is to be a woman so that we may know what it is to be a man. What moves at the margin. What it is to have no home in this place. To be set adrift from the one you knew. What it is to live at the edge of towns that cannot bear your company.” (Morrison 1994: 28–29)
“"Tell us about ships turned away from shorelines at Easter, placenta in a field. Tell us about a wagonload of slaves, how they sang so softly their breath was indistinguishable from the falling snow. How they knew from the hunch of the nearest shoulder that the next stop would be their last. How, with hands prayered in their sex, they thought of heat, then sun. Lifting their faces as though it was there for the taking. Turning as though there for the taking. They stop at an inn. The driver and his mate go in with the lamp, leaving them humming in the dark. The horse's void steams into the snow beneath its hooves and the hiss and melt are the envy of the freezing slaves.” (Morrison 1994: 29)
“"The inn door opens: a girl and a boy step away from its light. They climb into the wagon bed. The boy will have a gun in three years, but now he carries a lamp and a jug of warm cider. They pass it from mouth to mouth. The girl offers bread, pieces of meat and something more: a glance into the eyes of the one she serves. One helping for each man, two for each woman. And a look.
They look back. The next stop will be their last. But not this one. This one is warmed."”(Morrison 1994: 30)
October 16, 2007
I had this posted on my door for a year back in College. I made everyone who entered read it. I've relaxed a little and can see that now as pretty heavy handed... but I still maintain this is the treatise and the foundation of the community with whom I intend to share my life. It tells complex truths that teach us the power of narrative, the infinite possibility of abusing that power....the conjuring effect of narrative.... the risk we take in turning our lives over to the power of stories...and the greater risk in refusing to engage. I get a little short of breath thinking about it.
April 13, 2009
This book is a concise summary of Morrison's views on language and literature and a joy to read. If someone ever asks me what the point of literature or literary criticism is, I will probably recommend this to them.
June 22, 2012
If you haven't read this, it's really important that you do. What Morrison says, in many ways, relates to us all and is profound. The English nerd in me gets goosebumps everytime I read it.
June 2, 2018
We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.
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August 29, 2019Toni Morrison'in ardindan BirGun Pazar'da cikan yazim: https://wanderlustpress.net/2019/08/1...
August 7, 2025
Toni Morrison is a brilliant writer. This speech helps place all of her work, and the importance of her work, into context. I read it twice through at the beach and was struck by different things both times. At one point she quotes Lincoln's Gettysburg Address saying: "The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here." It's too hard to sum up the pain and sorrow of the Civil War, and instead Lincoln focuses on a deeper sense of mourning and respect for the people who died. I think that Morrison's work does something similar. I really liked this connection because last week I went to Lincoln's presidential library and museum (I KNOW BE JEALOUS). Long story short I was really moved at the museum (so much so that I cried during the holographic video on the importance of archives and connecting with the past and making history tangible and real...). Anyways... I'm convicted to finish making my way through Morrison's whole collection.
May 27, 2021
Quotes from the speech:
"The systematic looting of language can be recognized by the tendency of its users to forgo its nuanced, complex, mid-wifery properties for menace and subjugation. Oppressive language does more than represent violence; it is violence; does more than represent the limits of knowledge; it limits knowledge."
"Don’t tell us what to believe, what to fear. Show us belief's wide skirt and the stitch that unravels fear’s caul. You, old woman, blessed with blindness, can speak the language that tells us what only language can: how to see without pictures. Language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no names. Language alone is meditation."
"The systematic looting of language can be recognized by the tendency of its users to forgo its nuanced, complex, mid-wifery properties for menace and subjugation. Oppressive language does more than represent violence; it is violence; does more than represent the limits of knowledge; it limits knowledge."
"Don’t tell us what to believe, what to fear. Show us belief's wide skirt and the stitch that unravels fear’s caul. You, old woman, blessed with blindness, can speak the language that tells us what only language can: how to see without pictures. Language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no names. Language alone is meditation."
Read
December 21, 2022my mum gave me this because she loves toni morrison, i read it twice in one night because it was very short (but good). i think i should give this to my english teacher as he would like to deeply analyse it.
September 9, 2007
the first time that I heard this speech--my life changed. anyone who wants the opportunity to understand the power of words should listen and understand this speech.
February 26, 2008
This was such an amazing speech. Anyone really invested in literature should read her acceptance speech
December 29, 2017
In a Nobel lecture that reads more like a poem, Toni Morrison reflects on the power, limitations, forms, misuses, and legacy of language— I’ll definitely be returning to this.
December 13, 2023
“Language can never “pin down” slavery, genocide, war. Nor should it yearn for the arrogance to be able to do so. Its force, its felicity is in its reach toward the ineffable.
Be it grand or slender, burrowing, blasting, or refusing to sanctify; whether it laughs out loud or is a cry without an alphabet, the choice word, the chosen silence, unmolested language surges toward knowledge, not its destruction. But who does not know of literature banned because it is interrogative; discredited because it is critical; erased because alternate? And how many are outraged by the thought of a self-ravaged tongue?
Word-work is sublime, she thinks, because it is generative; it makes meaning that secures our difference, our human difference – the way in which we are like no other life.
We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.”
“Language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no names. Language alone is meditation.”
the world is poorer without toni. to hear her recite this speech is to be changed. words to live by, to sob at, to stir one out of the depths of despair and despondency. words of sustenance. with humility and reverence i try to honor its tenets, give them justice. i certainly try.
Be it grand or slender, burrowing, blasting, or refusing to sanctify; whether it laughs out loud or is a cry without an alphabet, the choice word, the chosen silence, unmolested language surges toward knowledge, not its destruction. But who does not know of literature banned because it is interrogative; discredited because it is critical; erased because alternate? And how many are outraged by the thought of a self-ravaged tongue?
Word-work is sublime, she thinks, because it is generative; it makes meaning that secures our difference, our human difference – the way in which we are like no other life.
We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.”
“Language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no names. Language alone is meditation.”
the world is poorer without toni. to hear her recite this speech is to be changed. words to live by, to sob at, to stir one out of the depths of despair and despondency. words of sustenance. with humility and reverence i try to honor its tenets, give them justice. i certainly try.
February 25, 2026
Toni Morrison’s Nobel Lecture is one of those rare pieces of writing that feels both precise and bottomless.
At first, I understood the parable - the blind woman, the bird, the young questioners. But it was Morrison’s meditation on “dead language” and “living language” that lingered long after I finished reading. She argues that language is not neutral: it can either enlarge human life or participate in its erasure. Dead language smooths, categorizes, and protects power. Living language risks truth, complexity, and moral accountability.
What struck me most is how relevant this feels - not only politically, but relationally. Dead language doesn’t just exist in institutions; it shows up in the softening phrases we use to avoid conflict, preserve comfort, or dilute clarity. Living language, by contrast, risks discomfort in order to remain honest.
This lecture is not long, but it's dense, layered, and demanding in the best way. It doesn’t tell you what to think. It asks what you are doing with the words in your own hands.
Powerful, unsettling, and deeply necessary.
At first, I understood the parable - the blind woman, the bird, the young questioners. But it was Morrison’s meditation on “dead language” and “living language” that lingered long after I finished reading. She argues that language is not neutral: it can either enlarge human life or participate in its erasure. Dead language smooths, categorizes, and protects power. Living language risks truth, complexity, and moral accountability.
What struck me most is how relevant this feels - not only politically, but relationally. Dead language doesn’t just exist in institutions; it shows up in the softening phrases we use to avoid conflict, preserve comfort, or dilute clarity. Living language, by contrast, risks discomfort in order to remain honest.
This lecture is not long, but it's dense, layered, and demanding in the best way. It doesn’t tell you what to think. It asks what you are doing with the words in your own hands.
Powerful, unsettling, and deeply necessary.
September 22, 2026
Toni Morrison understands language in a way that the rest of us do not. im very happy to have a copy of this speech
"Narrative has never been merely entertainment for me. It is, I believe, one of the principal ways in which we absorb knowledge. I hope you will understand, then, why I begin these remarks with the opening phrase of what must be the oldest sentence in the world, and the earliest one we remember from childhood: "Once upon a time...""
"Official language smitheried to sanction ignorance and preserve privilege is a suit of armor, polished to shocking glitter, a husk from which the knight departed long ago. Yet there it is; dumb, preda-tory, sentimental. Exciting reverence in schoolchildren, providing shelter for despots, summoning false memories of stability, harmony among the public."
"We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives."
"Narrative has never been merely entertainment for me. It is, I believe, one of the principal ways in which we absorb knowledge. I hope you will understand, then, why I begin these remarks with the opening phrase of what must be the oldest sentence in the world, and the earliest one we remember from childhood: "Once upon a time...""
"Official language smitheried to sanction ignorance and preserve privilege is a suit of armor, polished to shocking glitter, a husk from which the knight departed long ago. Yet there it is; dumb, preda-tory, sentimental. Exciting reverence in schoolchildren, providing shelter for despots, summoning false memories of stability, harmony among the public."
"We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives."
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 23, 2023
I enjoy reading works by people far smarter than myself, though I cannot hope to grasp half their meaning. Tony Morrison’s speech was about the value of language, the ways we hurt it, and the ways we nourish it and ourselves.
“Language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no name.”
“It is the language that drinks blood, laps vulnerabilities, tucks its fascist boots under crinolines of respectability and patriotism as it moves relentlessly toward the bottom line and the bottomed-out mind. Sexist language, racist language, theistic language – all are typical of the policing languages of mastery, and cannot, do not permit new knowledge or encourage the mutual exchange of ideas.”
“Language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no name.”
“It is the language that drinks blood, laps vulnerabilities, tucks its fascist boots under crinolines of respectability and patriotism as it moves relentlessly toward the bottom line and the bottomed-out mind. Sexist language, racist language, theistic language – all are typical of the policing languages of mastery, and cannot, do not permit new knowledge or encourage the mutual exchange of ideas.”
January 19, 2024
“the conventional wisdom of the tower of babel story is that the collapse was a misfortune. that it was the distraction or the weight of many languages that precipitated the tower’s failed architecture. that one monolithic language would have expedited the building and heaven would have been reached. ‘whose heaven?’ she wonders. ‘and what kind?’ perhaps the achievement of paradise was premature, a little hasty, if no one could take the time to understand other languages, other views, other narratives. had they, the heaven they imagined might have been found at their feet”
August 26, 2023
“The systematic looting of language can be recognized by the tendency of its users to forgo its nuanced, complex, mid-wifery properties for menace and subjugation. Oppressive language does more than represent violence; it is violence; does more than represent the limits of knowledge; it limits knowledge.”
“We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.”
“We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.”
September 16, 2023
“We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives”
“Don’t you remember being young when language was magic without meaning? When what you could say, could not mean? When the invisible was what imagination strove to see? When questions and demands for answers burned so brightly you trembled with fury at not knowing?”
The 1993 Nobel lecture is perhaps one of the most important things Toni ever wrote. My own language fails me at the honesty and profundity that this speech exposes; it truly says everything that needs to be said about the human relationship with language, and does so in the most articulate and masterful way. It is marvelous…
“Don’t you remember being young when language was magic without meaning? When what you could say, could not mean? When the invisible was what imagination strove to see? When questions and demands for answers burned so brightly you trembled with fury at not knowing?”
The 1993 Nobel lecture is perhaps one of the most important things Toni ever wrote. My own language fails me at the honesty and profundity that this speech exposes; it truly says everything that needs to be said about the human relationship with language, and does so in the most articulate and masterful way. It is marvelous…
August 19, 2025
Oh my god.
"She is worried about how the language she dreams in, given to her at birth, is handled, put into service, even withheld from her for certain nefarious purposes. Being a writer she thinks of language partly as a system, partly as a living thing over which one has control, but mostly as agency – as an act with consequences."
"She is worried about how the language she dreams in, given to her at birth, is handled, put into service, even withheld from her for certain nefarious purposes. Being a writer she thinks of language partly as a system, partly as a living thing over which one has control, but mostly as agency – as an act with consequences."
August 12, 2025
read this for senior seminar not a lot of ppl rlly got it i loved it tho
read this, the solzhenitsyn lecture, and stuff by miguel de unamuno, very important to how i write and grow my relationship with language and the word
read this, the solzhenitsyn lecture, and stuff by miguel de unamuno, very important to how i write and grow my relationship with language and the word
March 15, 2026
There once was an old woman. Wise. Blind.
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I love the flip of the parable. I appreciate the earnest youth and the experienced age. I agree there are some things that language cannot and should not attempt to express.
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I love the flip of the parable. I appreciate the earnest youth and the experienced age. I agree there are some things that language cannot and should not attempt to express.
February 24, 2025
I'm a huge fan of periphery work by my favorite people. This is one I revisit when I see it at a library. Her visions into humanity are that affecting to me.
Read
December 13, 2025What moves at the margin?
September 18, 2026
Épatant. Nécessaire.
Ce discours devrait être etudié et plus popularisé.
Ce discours devrait être etudié et plus popularisé.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 42 reviews