National languages are all huge systems of vested interests which sullenly resist critical inquiry.
Edward SapirRead
The fact of the matter is that the 'real world' is to a large extent unconsciously built up on the language habits of the group.
Interpretation
Language significantly shapes our perception of reality and our social interactions.
Edward Sapir's quote emphasizes the profound influence that language has on our understanding of the 'real world.' He suggests that our collective language habits form the basis of our reality, indicating that the words we use shape our thoughts, interactions, and culture, ultimately influencing how we perceive the world around us.
In practice
In a discussion about the role of language in shaping societal norms.
National languages are all huge systems of vested interests which sullenly resist critical inquiry.
In a sense, every form of expression is imposed upon one by social factors, one's own language above all.
No important national language, at least in the Occidental world, has complete regularity of grammatical structure, nor is there a single logical category which is adequately and consistently handled in terms of linguistic symbolism.
No two languages are ever sufficiently similar to be considered as representing the same social reality.
It would, of course, be hopeless to attempt to crowd into an international language all those local overtones of meaning which are so dear to the heart of the nationalist.
It is quite an illusion to imagine that one adjusts to reality essentially without the use of language and that language is merely an incidental means of solving specific problems of communication or reflection.
It is only in our decisions that we are important.
What's the go of that? What's the particular go of that?
One principle I've been fighting for that doesn't endear me to a lot of people is that black people can be just as complicated and screwed up as white people. Our motives can be just as base and violent. Suffering does not necessarily ennoble you.
If God has spoken, why is the world not convinced.
Not keep a journal! How are your absent cousins to understand the tenor of your life in Bath without one? How are the civilities and compliments of every day to be related as they ought to be, unless noted down every evening in a journal? How are your various dresses to be remembered, and the particular state of your complexion, and curl of your hair to be described in all their diversities, without having constant recourse to a journal?
In the life of a man, his time is but a moment, his being an incessant flux, his sense a dim rushlight, his body a prey of worms, his soul an unquiet eddy, his fortune dark, his fame doubtful. In short, all that is body is as coursing waters, all that is of the soul as dreams and vapors.
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