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Living in Montreal, I’m constantly aware of my language deficiencies. I’ve heard it said that some 130 languages are spoken here; at lunch with friends yesterday the conversation moved rapidly from French to Spanish to English and back again with an ease I envy and admire. After several years, my French is definitely improving; I read it well, can communicate in simple sentences, and understand much more of what’s spoken than I ever thought possible. I’ve got a long ways to go.
But there is one written language in which I’m absolutely fluent…
Elizabeth Adams, in The universal language. “Is there any language as universal as this?”
Parmanu 