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43 Philosophy Life without language would be a registration of the sensual: Sunbeam. Warm. Move onto rock. Something rather reptilian. Not bad. Just immediate. Direct. At times we may believe we crave exactly that. Let me crawl into a tent. Bring me the speech of the waves on the sand. This isn’t what we want. There would be no banter. No excuses. No clear directions. We’d never get back. Each crème brûlée would have to be something come upon accidentally with eggs— Sweet. Rich. Move into mouth— and we’d want another taste of that. ...

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