The Dictionary of Lost Words

by Pip Williams

Some words are more important than others—I learned this, growing up in the Scriptorium. But it took me a long time to understand why.

“But when we talk about her, she comes to life.” “Never forget that, Esme. Words are our tools of resurrection.”

“Words change over time, you see. The way they look, the way they sound;

sometimes even their meaning changes. They have their own history.”

“Me needlework will always be here,” she said. “I see this and I feel…well, I don’t know the word. Like I’ll always be here.” “Permanent,” I said. “And the rest of the time?” “I feel like a dandelion just before the wind blows.”

“Words are like stories, don’t you think, Mr. Sweatman? They change as they are passed from mouth to mouth; their meanings stretch or truncate to fit what needs to be said.

A vulgar word, well placed and said with just enough vigour, can express far more than its polite equivalent.

“The Dictionary is a history book, Esme. If it has taught me anything, it is that the way we conceive of things now will most certainly change.

“It’s not about forgiveness, Essymay. We can’t always make the choices we’d like, but we can try to make the best of what we must settle for. Take care not to dwell.”

Grief was all I could feel. It crowded my thoughts and filled my heart and left no room for anything else.

“Words define us, they explain us, and, on occasion, they serve to control or isolate