`I understand the words. It's the sentences I can't follow." In a week of dangerous confusion over statements and definitions, this observation by economist Louden Ryan seems to hit the nail on the head.
Mr Ryan once used it to put a stop to the gallop of colleagues in an academic debate. Now the challenge is far from academic, and definition is daily becoming harder.
The IRA's statement last weekend was regarded as highly significant by the Government and described by Gen. John de Chastelain as valuable progress.
The IRA said it would "consider how to put arms beyond use in the context of the full implementation of the Good Friday agreement and in the context of the removal of the causes of conflict".
But what did that mean? The IRA didn't say. Its political allies in Sinn Fein refused to elaborate. And Charlie Bird's reassurance on RTE was simply not reassuring.
"Consider", "context" and "full implementation" sound good. So would "removing the causes of conflict" if it hadn't been so overused by Sinn Fein as to have become all but meaningless.
This made no difference to politicians and commentators in the Republic, who continued to repeat "highly significant" but couldn't say why. There were comforting endorsements from the SDLP and sections of the media.
Peter Mandelson was blamed for suspending the Northern institutions too quickly and David Trimble for having forced his hand. There was some talk of a constitutional action.
Trimble repeated the question that Seamus Mallon had put to the republican movement as to whether, when and how decommissioning would take place.
But Mallon himself also blamed Mandelson and the unionists. Indeed, he linked the Ulster Unionist Council and the army council of the IRA as "un-elected bodies" seeking to dictate events.
No one bothered to remind him of Labour's special conferences on coalition. But, of course, we're different here. (We are. None of Labour's partners had a private army at its back.)
Decommissioning is not an issue which was suddenly sprung on us. In 1993 Dick Spring promised that in all-party discussions there would be no guns on or under the table or outside the door.
Devolution and decommissioning were central to the Belfast Agreement in April 1998; and to George Mitchell's review in November 1999.
When the review ended Mitchell said the governments and pro-agreement parties agreed devolution should occur at the earliest possible date. (It did.)
"It is also common ground," he said, "that decommissioning should occur as quickly as possible and that the [de Chastelain] commission should play a central role in achieving this under the terms of the agreement."
De Chastelain called for (and a few days later confirmed) the appointment of interlocutors by the paramilitaries. The IRA said it was "committed unequivocally to the search for freedom, justice and peace."
De Chastelain promised a second report by the end of January. But by then there was no progress to report and the commission feared "a time will soon be reached when it will be logistically impossible for us to complete our task by May 2000."
The governments refused to publish the report. And, with Trimble's letter of resignation in the post and an Ulster Unionist Council meeting fixed for Saturday, desperation set in.
What if Trimble lost the leadership of the UUP? If there was nothing more optimistic from either the IRA or de Chastelain? In Dublin desperation turned to panic. The Government's last hope lay with the IRA.
But Mandelson was as good as his word. And when the IRA, also in panic, finally made its bid for a postponement on Friday evening it was too late.
Ahern, who'd spent the previous fortnight calling for clarity from the republicans, now joined them to complain about Mandelson's timing.
By the middle of this week it was clear that his role as a mediator had failed and he was left fumbling for an explanation of communications that went wrong. The IRA withdrew its interlocutor, announcing the decision as he was addressing the Dail.
"Participation in government," he'd said, "can only be on the basis of a democratic mandate. Whether people like it or not it's not compatible - beyond a short transition period - to have participation with armed backing."
So he agrees with Trimble. But this doesn't stop colleagues and spokesmen from prattling on about Trimble's deviousness or Mandelson's perfidy.
But an ability to be po-faced and twofaced at once has been a feature of Irish politics for a long time. We heard a small, but telling, example of it on Raidio na Gaeltachta's Seo Beo an tSathairn last week.
Someone telephoned to complain that the presenter, Cynthia ni Mhurchu, referred to the IRA as "an tIRA", literally "the IRA."
Why not the Irish version, as used by the republicans themselves: Oglaigh na hEireann, the Irish volunteers?
But that, as Seo Beo an tSathairn was smartly informed, is the title of a different force, the Irish Army, the army of the State.
It's the only force which holds the right to bear arms. The President is its commander-in-chief. And it's responsible under the Constitution to the Oireachtas.
The army council of the IRA, which issues statements in the name of Oglaigh na hEireann, presumes to be both the unquestionable authority in the republican movement and the legitimate government of the country.
The IRA's claim that it has the right to bear arms, and the related claim that its ruling body is the real government, are challenges to the Army, the Government and the Constitution.
They help to explain the stubborn resistance to decommissioning.
The arguments used to support these claims are not grounded in democratic principles. They don't have to be; they invoke God and the dead generations and, to borrow one of de Valera's famous phrases, rely on the view that the majority has no right to be wrong.
De Valera changed, again and again. Sinn Fein, too, has changed: in most cases with little or no fuss, when it judged the time and the circumstances were right.
Few now remember - or care to recall - when its members railed against American imperialism, the Common Market and the governments of London and Dublin.
Sinn Fein itself was once fiercely abstentionist: abstentionism was the ostensible cause of the split in 1970. Not any longer.
Republicans, as a republican friend was in the habit of saying, are deadly at the theology. They're also adept at Realpolitik and masters of propaganda.
It would be a relief to know that our political leaders, the leaders of this State, could tell the difference between the national interest and a nationalist front.
Some public figures who've come before the tribunals in the past few years obviously regard the oath as an optional extra.
Some in politics have come to the opinion that the Constitution is the same.