Ordinary language is all right.
One could divide humanity into two classes:
those who master a metaphor, and those who hold by a formula.
Those with a bent for both are too few, they do not comprise a class.
'To put up with men, to keep open house in one's heart - this is liberal, but no more than liberal. One knows hearts which are capable of noble hospitality, which have curtained windows and closed shutters: they keep their best rooms empty. Why do they do so? - Because they await guests with whom one does not have to 'put up' ...'
'We no longer have a sufficiently high estimate of ourselves when we communicate. Our true experiences are not garrulous. They could not communicate themselves if they wanted to: they lack words. We have already grown beyond whatever we have words for. In all talking there lies a grain of contempt. Speech, it seems, was devised only for the average, medium, communicable. The speaker has already vulgarized himself by speaking. - From a moral code for deaf-mutes and other philosophers.'
It's good to know I can always reduce myself to silliness by remembering the ANALRAPIST gag.
Wonderful things about 'Bout It, Bout It II' by Master P:
1. it's a sequel
2. whiny g-funk synth and a grumbly bass synth
3. P names every single person he knows (and every person he knows is bout it)
4. he also names most of the places he has ever been
5. he recycles the Scarface flow that he used on the first 'Bout It' without batting an eye
6. (someone is going to mail me and tell me that Scarface actually took that flow from a record P did a hundred years earlier)
7. on Mia X's verse (verses?) instead of just supplementing her main lines on the overdub she just raps completely different lyrics so that there are two verses at once!
8. P refers to the song as the national anthem and you want to believe him
9. the way the synth rumbles, veers, meanders before the beat drops at the beginning
10. P explains himself (more than once!): 'in the grave / I mean they DYIN'
'He acquires strength as he goes.'
'When we talk to a friend we do not constantly confess and plumb the depths of our soul; for to do so is to threaten, by excessive self-concern, the tacit equilibrium that friendship assumes and needs. Rather we talk about our hopes and fears, what has happened to us, what we have seen, heard, or read that has interested us, how we assess our own actions and those of others.'