Words don't get grown, Elisabeth said.
They do, Daniel said.
Words aren't plants, Elisabeth said.
Words are themselves organisms, Daniel said.
Oregano-isms, Elisabeth said.
Herbal and verbal, Daniel said. Language is like poppies. It just takes something to churn the earth round them up, and when it does up come the sleeping words, bright red, fresh, blowing about. Then the seedheads rattle, the seeds fall out. Then there's even more language waiting to come up.
Fragment uit Autumn van Ali Smith.
Dit is schitterend, helemaal mijn ding. Dat gefezel over woorden, die niet stil blijven staan, maar springen, dansen, juichen...
BeantwoordenVerwijderenDit is schitterend, helemaal mijn ding. Dat gefezel over woorden, die niet stil blijven staan, maar springen, dansen, juichen...
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