Words can both explain and confound, both uncover reality and smear it out.
Clear words should resemble jewels: convey weight while not being unduly voluminous; reflect illumination through each feature; and, whenever made sharp, slice with careful accuracy through any material.
Misleading words, notwithstanding, can sew a snare of lack of definition so close that what stays behind them stays a secret for eternity.
Words convey power, more than everything else. Swedish creator, writer, painter, and universalist August Strindberg stated: "You have the force, I have the word, I have the word in my capacity." These words were laid in the mouth of Loki, yet Strindberg himself made some long-memories fight with the Swedish lord, a circumstance that caused him to pick a long outcast. His weapon was the pen. Today, when both Strindberg and ruler Oscar II are dead since over a century, who do you believe was the most impressive of them? Strindberg's words convey as much weight as could be, while there is no leftover impact at all from lord Oscar.
Political force is momentaneous, it endures a couple of breaths of history, at that point it is no more. Composed words remain, and their impact now and again ranges centuries. What is the intensity of rulers or lords, contrasted with that of the expressions of Plato or Confucius, or of books as the Vedas, the Qur'an, or the Bible?
As leaves in the breeze contrasted with squares of stone.
On the off chance that you need force and impact, don't go for legislative issues, where you will simply be the generally referenced leaf in the breeze. Go for composing; figure out how to communicate in clear composition. There abides the genuine force. Yet, great composing isn't all; there is one thing that is considerably more significant: you should have something generous to state. That requires unwavering discernment, sadly an extremely uncommon item.
As T.S. Eliot stated: "A few editors are bombed authors, however so are most essayists."
Why the disappointment?
They don't have anything to state, no substance in their composition - or in their reasoning! It would be hard not to concur with what George Eliot wrote in "Impressions of Theophrastus Such": "Honored is the one who having nothing to state, avoids giving us longwinded proof of the reality."