"Monsieur' to a convict is a glass of water to a man dying of thirst at sea; ignominy thirsts for respect."

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We are all imprisoned by the dictionary. We choose out of that vast, paper-walled prison our convicts, the little black printed words, when in truth we need fresh sounds to utter, new enfranchised noises which would produce a new effect.

— Mervyn Peake