“When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.” - Billy, age 4
“Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.” - Karl, age 5
“Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.” - Chrissy, age 6
“Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.” - Terri, age 4
“Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.” - Danny, age 7
“Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.” - Bobby, age 7
“If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,” - Nikka, age 6
“Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.” - Noelle, age 7
“Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.” - Elaine, age 5
“Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Brad Pitt.” - Chris, age 7
“Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.” - Mary Ann, age 4
“I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.” - Lauren, age 4
“When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love.” - Rebecca, age 8
“When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.” - Karen, age 7
“You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.” - Jessica, age 8
What came in the news in the months that followed that meeting—the nukes, the murder, the inevitable riots and threats of war that followed from Name’s most passionate followers, actions against all the wishes of that most certain of pacifists—was only a postscript to me. Name had been so calm, so sure, so normal and yet utterly surreal. That was what occupied my thoughts, in the closing days of 2027—whatever else you believed, Name had been so human. Charisma and certainty aside, there had been no special effects, no out-and-out miracles. It hadn’t been a life of fantastic grace and generosity, just a life completely and honestly free of pettiness and malice. Did the absence of ill will make good will? Did the absence of hate mean love? Did Name campaign for peace out of a sense of duty or out of a gladly sacrificial compassion? I certainly didn’t know. But, out of all these imponderables, what struck me most was that we couldn’t find a difference between a thoroughly decent human being and a god incarnate.
-an excerpt from Name, by Tess M. Yanisch Spiral: Volume 2, Issue 3
Suppose one interprets the adjectives “autological” and “heterological” as follows:
An adjective is autological (sometimes homological) if and only if it describes itself. For example “short” is autological, since the word “short” is short. “English,” “unhyphenated” and “pentasyllabic” are also autological.
An adjective is heterological if it does not describe itself. Hence “long” is a heterological word, as are “abbreviated” and “monosyllabic.”
All adjectives, it would seem, must be either autological or heterological, for each adjective either describes itself, or it doesn’t. The Grelling–Nelson paradox arises when we consider the adjective “heterological”. To test if the word “‘beautiful” is autological one can ask: Is “beautiful” a beautiful word? If the answer is ‘yes’, “beautiful” is autological. If the answer is ‘no’, “beautiful” is heterological.
By comparison, one can ask: Is “heterological” a heterological word?
“Let you alone! That’s all very well, but how can I leave myself alone? We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?”