The Truth Is That The

Language Always Pre-exists Us: It Is Always Already 'in Place', Waiting To Assign Us Our Places Within It.

In The End, The Humanities Can Only Be Defended By Stressing How Indispensable They Are; And This Means Insisting On Their Vital Role In The Whole Business Of Academic Learning, Rather Than Protesting That, Like Some Poor Relation, They Don't Cost Much To Be Housed.

You Can Tell That The Capitalist System Is In Trouble When People Start Talking About Capitalism.

In The Deep Night Of Metaphysics, All Cats Look Black.

With Fiction, You Can Talk About Plot, Character And Narrative, Whereas A Poem Brings Home The Fact That Everything That Happens In A Work Of Literature Happens In Terms Of Language. And This Is Daunting Stuff To Deal With.