bonds between a hundred and eighty million ways.All of us know this when we think about it,but the tag phrase too often keeps us from thinking about it. 32 So with many another phrase dear to the politician:"this great land of ours,""the man in the street,""our national heritage."These may prove our patriotism or give a clue to our political beliefs,but otherwise they add nothing to the paper except words. COLORFUL WORDS 33 The writer builds with words,and no builder uses a raw material more slippery and elusive and treacherous.A writer's work is a constant struggle to get the right word in the right place,to find that particular word that will convey his meaning exactly,that will persuade the reader or soothe him or startle or amuse him.He never succeeds altogether-sometimes he feels that he scarcely succeeds at all--but such successes as he has are what make the thing worth doing. 34 There is no book of rules for this game.One progresses through everlasting experiment on the basis of ever-widening experience.There are few useful generalizations that one can make about words as words,but there are perhaps a few. 35 Some words are what we call "colorful."By this we mean that they are calculated to produce a picture or induce an emotion.They are dressy instead of plain,specific instead of general,loud instead of soft.Thus,in place of "Her heart beat,"we may write,"her heart pounded,throbbed, fluttered,danced."Instead of "He sat in his chair,"we may say,"he lounged,sprawled,coiled." Instead of "It was hot,"we may say,"It was blistering,sultry,muggy,suffocating,steamy, wilting." 36 However,it should not be supposed that the fancy word is always better.Often it is as well to write "Her heart beat"or "It was hot"if that is all it did or all it was.Ages differ in how they like their prose.The nineteenth century liked it rich and smoky.The twentieth has usually preferred it lean and cool.The twentieth century writer,like all writers,is forever seeking the exact word,but he is wary of sounding feverish.He tends to pitch it low,to understate it,to throw it away.He knows that if he gets too colorful,the audience is likely to giggle. 37 See how this strikes you:"As the rich,golden glow of the sunset died away along the eternal western hills,Angela's limpid blue eyes looked softly and trustingly into Montague's flashing brown ones,and her heart pounded like a drum in time with the joyous song surging in her soul." Some people like that sort of thing,but most modern readers would say,"Good grief,"and turn on the television COLORED WORDS 38 Some words we would call not so much colorful as colored--that is,loaded with associations, good or bad.All words--except perhaps structure words--have associations of some sort.We have said that the meaning of a word is the sum of the contexts in which it occurs.When we hear a word,we hear with it an echo of all the situations in which we have heard it before. 39 In some words,these echoes are obvious and discussible.The word mother,for example,has, for most people,agreeable associations.When you hear mother you probably think of home, safety,love,food,and various other pleasant things.If one writes,"She was like a mother to me," he gets an effect which he would not get in "She was like an aunt to me."The advertiser makes 88 bonds between a hundred and eighty million ways. All of us know this when we think about it, but the tag phrase too often keeps us from thinking about it. 32 So with many another phrase dear to the politician: "this great land of ours," "the man in the street," "our national heritage." These may prove our patriotism or give a clue to our political beliefs, but otherwise they add nothing to the paper except words. COLORFUL WORDS 33 The writer builds with words, and no builder uses a raw material more slippery and elusive and treacherous. A writer's work is a constant struggle to get the right word in the right place, to find that particular word that will convey his meaning exactly, that will persuade the reader or soothe him or startle or amuse him. He never succeeds altogether - sometimes he feels that he scarcely succeeds at all -- but such successes as he has are what make the thing worth doing. 34 There is no book of rules for this game. One progresses through everlasting experiment on the basis of ever-widening experience. There are few useful generalizations that one can make about words as words, but there are perhaps a few. 35 Some words are what we call "colorful." By this we mean that they are calculated to produce a picture or induce an emotion. They are dressy instead of plain, specific instead of general, loud instead of soft. Thus, in place of "Her heart beat," we may write, "her heart pounded, throbbed, fluttered, danced." Instead of "He sat in his chair," we may say, "he lounged, sprawled, coiled." Instead of "It was hot," we may say, "It was blistering, sultry, muggy, suf ocating, steamy, wilting." 36 However, it should not be supposed that the fancy word is always better. Often it is as well to write "Her heart beat" or "It was hot" if that is all it did or all it was. Ages differ in how they like their prose. The nineteenth century liked it rich and smoky. The twentieth has usually preferred it lean and cool. The twentieth century writer, like all writers, is forever seeking the exact word, but he is wary of sounding feverish. He tends to pitch it low, to understate it, to throw it away. He knows that if he gets too colorful, the audience is likely to giggle. 37 See how this strikes you: "As the rich, golden glow of the sunset died away along the eternal western hills, Angela's limpid blue eyes looked softly and trustingly into Montague's flashing brown ones, and her heart pounded like a drum in time with the joyous song surging in her soul." Some people like that sort of thing, but most modern readers would say, "Good grief," and turn on the television. COLORED WORDS 38 Some words we would call not so much colorful as colored -- that is, loaded with associations, good or bad. All words -- except perhaps structure words -- have associations of some sort. We have said that the meaning of a word is the sum of the contexts in which it occurs. When we hear a word, we hear with it an echo of all the situations in which we have heard it before. 39 In some words, these echoes are obvious and discussible. The word mother, for example, has, for most people, agreeable associations. When you hear mother you probably think of home, safety, love, food, and various other pleasant things. If one writes, "She was like a mother to me," he gets an effect which he would not get in "She was like an aunt to me." The advertiser makes