If you are ever asked why you never talk about your feelings (which has been asked of me weirdly enough!) or if you are accused of writing “Dear someone… errr… I love you” in their Valentine’s card (which, touchwood, I have never done) hit ’em with a bit of Derrida:
“Speaking frightens me because, by never saying enough, I also say too much. And if the necessity of becoming breath or speech restricts meaning – and our responsbility for it – writing restricts and constrains speech further still.” (Derrida, 1967)
Or, if in that tricky situation where you are both left in an awkward silence and he/she (oh no!) asks you what you’re thinking, hit them with an old favourite of mine – that sweet charmer Catullus:
” Odi et amo. Quare id faciam fortasse requiris. Nescio, sed fieri sentio, et excrucior.” Catullus Carmen 85.
“I hate and I love. Why do I do this, perhaps you ask? I don’t know, but I feel it happen and it torments me” (my bad translation, putting my A level Latin to some use, yay!)
In fact, you can stick that in a Valentine’s card. Providing he/she does not know Latin or know how to use Google.
I will add some more scenarios later. No, you’re welcome.