I read an interesting article today about dictionaries. Here’s a snippet.
“THERE is something comforting in a dictionary: right angles, a pleasing heft, reassuringly rigid covers. A new one is tight, a bright sheaf of discoveries yet to be made; an old one is a musty but trusted cozy friend. A good dictionary is the classic school-leaving gift from ambitious parents to their children. A great dictionary might even be passed on through several generations.
But maybe the most reassuring thing about a dictionary is its finite nature. A small dictionary contains all the words you need to know, and a really big one seems to contain all the words in existence. Having one nearby seems to say that the language has boundaries, and reasonable ones at that.”
Quite honestly, I prefer an empty book. An empty book is infinite – no boundaries. It’s yours to fill with…anything. It’s yours to fill with you. Yup, give me an empty book every time.
What’s your favorite type of book?