Eire and Yisra'el

The land of Ireland and the language of Hebrew warm my heart. I don't know why, out of the many things in this world, it should be these two, but it is. I lived in Ireland for nine months and my heart broke a little to say goodbye. I hated the winter, my relationship with my fiancé was horrible, and I never really connected with the Irish people, but still it stole my heart. It was the language as much as anything - so whimsical, formal and archaic, like stepping into a fairytale.

And again, I hated learning Hebrew and was rather hopeless at it, but fell in love with its sweet plainness and the poetry of its repeated forms. I only have to see its letters to feel a rush of affection. It's an achingly sweet, minimalist language, one that conveys great profundity with the slightest twist of a word.

It's the words isn't it.