Some days I fear that at the rate I’m going I’ll die
Before I ever master French.
And then I think if that’s the race, and it’s more or less a photo
finish,
What difference could it possibly make who wins?
And then I think, no one ever really masters a
language.
I wonder if language masters us? I wonder if the English habit of capitalizing "I" (French and German manage perfectly well without this convention, and I'm not aware of other widely-spoken languages which grant this special attention to the one speaking or writing) contributes to the extremer forms of individualism we tend to find in English-speaking cultures.
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