I was sitting last night (and early this morning) at a locally well-known restaurant in Rio de Janeiro named Cervantes (it’s in Copacabana, near Leme). I was eating some of the best bolinhos de bacalhau I had ever had, and talking with a girl I’ve known for a while here.
As the flow of the conversation in Portuguese progressed, and as I added more red pepper sauce to my bolinhos, I began to think more about words, language, and their uses. A few glasses of beer also helped. I thought it might be useful to commit some of those thoughts here.
Quintus Curtius 