“She had always wanted words, she loved them; grew up on them. Words gave her clarity, brought reason, shape.”
― Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient
Words are easily my favorite thing. They make up all my other favorite things: books, stories, and poetry. They seem to be the fastest way to my heart. Words can make something from nothing. Empires have been built on words.
Laws are created with words.
Love has bloomed from words.
Wars have been started over words.
They are used to motivate, to militarize, to organize, and to separate.
I hear people say all the time, “They’re just words.” I’m living proof that some of the most painful injuries can be caused by words.
Life is described by words.
I’ve read articles and stories of the blind and how they are better able to perceive the world because of being able to read braille.
The deaf are able to learn where they have not been able before. The animated teacher’s mouth movements can make sense when they are transcribed. Words are made into motion as someone translates speech to ASL.
I use words in everything. I use them to explain, to understand, to evoke, to heal.
Words make up the sonnet, the manifesto, the suicide note, and the battlecry.
Emotions and worlds come to life as words pass the lips or spill across the page. They are a confession of love, an apology, a last chance, a request, and sometimes, the last memory people have of us after we’re gone.
Whether in ink, by mouth, on a screen, or locked away and confined to your heart, words are my most favorite thing.