In Statistics, What Disappears Behind Rows Of

Information Networks Straddle The World. Nothing Remains Concealed. But The Sheer Volume Of Information Dissolves The Information. We Are Unable To Take It All In.

The Patience Of Poverty. In Rice Fields, Backs Bent Forever. Amazing, Man Outoxens The Oxen And Still Smiles. The Mystery Of India, Say Indologists.

Art Is Accusation, Expression, Passion. Art Is Black Charcoal Crushing White Paper.

The Human Head Is Bigger Than The Globe. It Conceives Itself As Containing More. It Can Think And Rethink Itself And Ourselves From Any Desired Point Outside The Gravitational Pull Of The Earth. It Starts By Writing One Thing And Later Reads Itself As Something Else. The Human Head Is Monstrous.

In General, I Agree With Jacob Grimm And Feel That We Ought To Permit Changes And Uncontrolled Growth In Language. Even Though That Also Allows Potentially Threatening New Words To Develop, Language Needs The Chance To Constantly Renew Itself.