I love words. All kinds of words. I love words of fluid cadence like sonata, anatomy and phylactery; or words of savage abruptness like dolt, clod and oaf. Even words that are innocently suggestive like corpulent, annulus, pith, and epistle. I love words of tortured cadence like tintinnabulation and persiflage; or words of gentle lucidity like lambent and limpid; words of uncertain meaning, like trice or nonce. I love words of pedagogical preciousness, like chicanery or petard. I love clipped and sanitized invectives, like drat or nertz; or bulbous words like rotund or oblate, and words of pulsing sensuality like nubile or tumescent, or prurient. Words of stark morbidity like putrescence or carrion or cadaver; and words of piercing sibilance, like vicissitude, hispid or syzygy. I love words of oozy sentimentality like mawkish or smarmy or saccharine; and words of diffident abasement like cur or lout, and words to show off by like perspicacious or perspicuous. I love words of cerebral viscosity, like dullard or lumpen; and words of consummate ignominy like cower, grovel or pule; words of impending divinity like deification or apotheosis; and words of priestly demeanor like sacerdotal or Episcopal.

I love words that flow effortlessly from the speaker and alight gently on the ear of the listener; words such as petulance, fatuous, cupidity, egregious, craven, varlet, umbrage, bilious, phlegmatic, sanguine, contumely, hubris, undulant, umbrage, livid, unctuous, ululate, inane, execrable, and rubric. I love words.