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“I don't understand him at all,” said Grace. “Except his words, I know the ordinary meaning of his words. But when he speaks, I can feel the words straining to contain the things he wants to say, and they can't do it. They aren't large enough, those words of his, even though he speaks in our largest language, even though he builds the words together into great baskets of meaning, into boats of thought. I can only see the outer shape of words and guess at what he means. I don't understand him at all.”
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from Children of the Mind
by Orson Scott Card
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