I stand amazed that humans can distinguish /m/ from /n/.

You’re saying I should give in to the vernacular?

— Scott

“For then will I transform peoples with a pure language for them all to call in the name of the LORD, to serve Him with single intent” (Zephaniah 3:9, Alters).

Lord, please transform Christians in this way. As it is, it seems we’re calling in the name of different lords to serve with various, opposing intents.

Just listened to: Traditional Techniques (2020) by Stephen Malkmus. My first Malkmus solo album listen. His lyrics are as weird as in the ’90s, but I had no idea he could make such pretty music. A very good late-night psych-folk stoner album. The effect is similar to hearing The Velvet Underground’s self-titled album. Also, I’m a sucker for 12-string guitar and playfulness with words.

Wait, is that a rule? We’re not allowed to have telepathic antecedents?

— Éa, in response to a gentle scold from Scott about a conversation he couldn’t follow

The ideal birthday communication is neither the tired greeting card not the awkward phone call. The first is unremarkable; the second requires too much of the recipient. Instead, it’s a heartfelt voice message sent via text. 🎉

Saying “thank you for your patience” before the speaker knows his listener will give it is presumptuous. Better to say “I’m sorry.”

Step one in any anti-racist agenda: Refuse to speak in terms of race. Skin color? Pigment? Melanin? Yes. But “‘[r]ace’ itself is just a restatement and retrenchment of the problem” (Ta-Nehisi Coates).

Speaking harshly was one of Jesus’ love languages.

My new definition of love: to devote oneself to the good, wellbeing, or flourishing of and the enjoyment of relationship with.

Telling someone they “have been” something is more empowering a way of truth-telling than telling them they “are” something. It leaves the future open for change.

[overheard while Sullivan and Éa build a precarious fort]:

Éa: Sully, did you just swear!?
Sullivan: What!? No!
Éa: No really, Sully, did you say the S word?
Sullivan: No! Only Mom does that!

Oh my gosh. Jesus.

— Carla

Scott: So, Sullivan what laws of physics do you know?
Sullivan: Newton’s laws of physics!
Éa: Nudists know all physics?

You know what Miss Leigh calls a picture? “Pitcher.” Picture. Pitcher. She’s a very complicated woman.

— Éa, on a quirk of her teacher’s pronunciation

Carla: Sullivan, you have to take a shower. I don’t want to hear any more whining about it. Get in there.
Sullivan [walking away into the bathroom]: Aw, maaan! Fuck. Fuck fuck.
Carla: Sullivan, what did you just say?
Sullivan: Haha! I didn’t want to say “shucks” so I disguised it by saying “puck”—or no wait: “fuck.” Yeah, that was it.

Carla [upon delivery of Éa’s dessert at Sips Bistro]: Bon appétit!
Éa [correcting her]: Bon appé-YUM!

Scott: Éa, would you mind if I put on some tunes?
Éa: Yeah.
Scott [to clarify]: Should I put on some tunes?
Éa: Yeah.
Scott: Any objections anyone?
Éa: Tunes! But don’t put on any objections!

Dave: I didn’t realize buffalo was a verb.
Carla: Yeah, it means to bully.
Dave: Yes, I gathered that from the context.