It seems to me that in any other language happiness is not so sweet, logic is not so clear.

I am not sure that I could believe in my neighbors as I do if I thought about them in un-English words.

I could almost say that my conviction of immortality is bound up with the English of its promise.

And as I am attached to my prejudices, I must love the English language! Whenever the teachers did anything special to help me over my private difficulties, my gratitude went out to them, silently.

It meant so much to me that they halted the lesson to give me a lift, that I needs must love them for it.