judiciously,but mostly I rely on commas to separate interlinked ideas.Conversely, sometimes,the finality of a full-stop is not enough,and I need to employ paragraphs or even blank lines or a row of asterisks to create the correct pause between sections of prose.It is natural that a writer's relationship with punctuation should be emotional I was reading on the plane to Melbourne,Conor Cruise O'Brien's excellent biography of Edmund Burke,and was delighted to note this phrase-'the brackets are like handcuffs'-I may return to it later in the context of language and morality. 16 For the moment though,I would still like to explore why we write in sentences.I was fortunate enough last Saturday to see after a very long time,my cousin Tista Bagchi who is a distinguished linguist at the University of Delhi and happens to be writing a book on what she rather beautifully described as the archeology of the sentence.According to her,the sentence arose in English out of the need for a language suited to legal needs,and in Greek was imposed by the Stoics out of a need for logic(they called them axioms).Thus the sentence was created out the need for unambiguity.Finally,it became clear to me why I had such a visceral dislike of short sentences containing one clear idea.Again,I will stress that 'sentences'as we normally recognize them can be,and have been,very productively employed by many writers of fiction,but to demand it of all prose smacks to me of a certain fundamentalism,or at the very least the misplaced importation of the concerns of mathematics,logic and law into an arena which thrives on ambiguity rather than precision. 17 These two types of thinking map in some ways to what the protagonist of Walker Percy's novel The Moviegoer,Binx Bolling,designates as the 'vertical'and the 'horizontal'search.'If you walk in the front door of a laboratory,you undertake the vertical search...as you get deeper into the search,you unify.You understand more and more specimens by fewer and fewer formulae.There is the excitement.Of course you are always after the big one,the new key,the secret leverage point,and that is the best of it'is how he describes the former.He is less specific about the horizontal search,but it is clear from the following excerpt which he prefers: My aunt is convinced I have a flair for research.'This is not true.If I had a flair for research,I would be doing research...I tried research one summer.I got interested in the role of the acid-base balance in the formation of renal calculi;really,it's quite an interesting problem.I had a hunch you might get pigs to form oxalate stones by manipulating the pH of the blood,and maybe even dissolve them.A friend of mine,a boy from Pittsburg named Harry Stern,and I read up the literature and presented the problem to [Dr]Minor. He was enthusiastic,gave us everything we wanted and turned us loose for the summer.But then a peculiar thing happened.I became extraordinarily affected by the summer afternoons in the laboratory.The August sunlight came streaming across the room.The old building ticked and creaked in the heat.Outside we could hear the cries of summer students playing touchjudiciously, but mostly I rely on commas to separate interlinked ideas. Conversely, sometimes, the finality of a full-stop is not enough, and I need to employ paragraphs or even blank lines or a row of asterisks to create the correct pause between sections of prose. It is natural that a writer’s relationship with punctuation should be emotional. I was reading on the plane to Melbourne, Conor Cruise O’Brien’s excellent biography of Edmund Burke, and was delighted to note this phrase – 'the brackets are like handcuffs' – I may return to it later in the context of language and morality. 16 For the moment though, I would still like to explore why we write in sentences. I was fortunate enough last Saturday to see after a very long time, my cousin Tista Bagchi who is a distinguished linguist at the University of Delhi and happens to be writing a book on what she rather beautifully described as the archeology of the sentence. According to her, the sentence arose in English out of the need for a language suited to legal needs, and in Greek was imposed by the Stoics out of a need for logic (they called them axioms). Thus the sentence was created out the need for unambiguity. Finally, it became clear to me why I had such a visceral dislike of short sentences containing one clear idea. Again, I will stress that 'sentences' as we normally recognize them can be, and have been, very productively employed by many writers of fiction, but to demand it of all prose smacks to me of a certain fundamentalism, or at the very least the misplaced importation of the concerns of mathematics, logic and law into an arena which thrives on ambiguity rather than precision. 17 These two types of thinking map in some ways to what the protagonist of Walker Percy’s novel The Moviegoer, Binx Bolling, designates as the 'vertical' and the 'horizontal' search. 'If you walk in the front door of a laboratory, you undertake the vertical search...as you get deeper into the search, you unify. You understand more and more specimens by fewer and fewer formulae. There is the excitement. Of course you are always after the big one, the new key, the secret leverage point, and that is the best of it' is how he describes the former. He is less specific about the horizontal search, but it is clear from the following excerpt which he prefers: My aunt is convinced I have a 'flair for research.' This is not true. If I had a flair for research, I would be doing research...I tried research one summer. I got interested in the role of the acid-base balance in the formation of renal calculi; really, it's quite an interesting problem. I had a hunch you might get pigs to form oxalate stones by manipulating the pH of the blood, and maybe even dissolve them. A friend of mine, a boy from Pittsburg named Harry Stern, and I read up the literature and presented the problem to [Dr] Minor. He was enthusiastic, gave us everything we wanted and turned us loose for the summer. But then a peculiar thing happened. I became extraordinarily af ected by the summer afternoons in the laboratory. The August sunlight came streaming across the room. The old building ticked and creaked in the heat. Outside we could hear the cries of summer students playing touch