words, glorious words

In praise of lip-smacking-good words:

Thwart. Yes, thwart is a good word. Thwarted. Athwart. A kind of satisfaction lives in such words–a unity, a completion. Teach them to a child, and you’ll see what I mean: skirt, scalp, drab, buckle, sneaker, twist, jumble. Squeamish, for that matter. They taste good in the mouth, and they seem to resound with their own verbal truthfulness.

More like proper nouns than mere words, they match the objects they describe. Pickle, gloomy, portly, curmudgeon–sounds that loop back on themselves to close the circle of meaning. They’re perfect, in their way. They’re what all language wants to be when it grows up.