I will write you letters which I will never send , I will write you poems which you will never read, I will tell stories about you which you will never know , I will miss you and break a little and you will have no idea , it’s funny how sometimes we can love and die over someone so silently.
He writes the worst English I have ever encountered. It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of a dark abysm…of pish, and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash.
H.L. Mencken, on President Warren G. Harding, Baltimore Evening Sun, March 7, 1921.
I wish H.L. Mencken was here to analyze Donald Trump. I’m certain he would find no grandeur in him.