Language s the blood of the soul into which thoughts run and out of which they grow – said Oliver Wendell Holmes, how right.
A picture paints a million words, but it is not the language of painters, but the language of nature one should listen to, the feeling for the things themselves for reality is more important than the feeling for pictures.
A language is a process of free creation, its laws and principles are fixed but the manner in which the principles of generations are used is free and infinitely varied. Even the interpretations and use of words involves a process of free creations.
But use what language you will you can never anything but what you are.
So Plinky I wake up and discover that I can speak and understand the language of silence.