My object to venture the suggestion that an important application of phonetics to metrical problems lies in the study of phonetic word-structure.
I loved him, officer. More than any woman ever loved an egg.
Her majesty is one verb short of a sentence.
Sorry," [Hamlet] said, rubbing his temples. "I don't know what came over me. All of a sudden I had this overwhelming desire to talk for a very long time without actually doing anything.
Dead. Never been that before. Not even once.
Death, I had discovered long ago, was available in varying flavors, and none of them particularly palatable.
Apart from the faint odor of ink that pervaded the scene, it might have been real.
I can see his pride Peep through each part of him.
When I examine myself and my methods of thought, I come to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than my talent for absorbing positive knowledge. (Reading this makes me wonder how much sooner man could have walked on the moon. . . had we listened to a child's fantasies. It is truly a pity that so many lose their gift of imagination to the steady hum of the status quo. )
What do you mean by meant? Given the final futility of our struggle, is the fleeting jolt of meaning that art gives us valuable? Or is it the only value passing time as comfortably as possible?
In some parts of the world, that sex selection for boys - and it's usually for boys - reflects sex discrimination against girls, and it leads to very large imbalances - in China, in Korea, in India - in the population between boys and girls, a vast disproportion of boys to girls, and it reflects really this discriminatory attitude toward girls.