To give approval to.

*Sanction* originally meant “make holy” or “give official church approval to.” The word still has a solemn sound to it, so sanctioning is something generally done by an institution or government, though not necessarily by a church. So a college may sanction—or “give its blessing to”—the use of office space by a gay organization, or a hot-rod association may sanction two new tracks for official races. But *sanction* is also a noun, which may have two near-opposite meanings, “approval” and “penalty.” Thus, a company may be accused of giving its *sanction* to illegal activities. But when two or more countries impose sanctions on another country, it often involves cutting off trade. No wonder *sanction* is such a tricky word for so many of us.

Pretending to be more religiously observant or morally better than other people.

Making a show of your religious morality has always struck some people the wrong way, including Jesus. In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus preaches that, when we give away money for charity, we shouldn't let our left hand know what our right hand is doing—that is, the giving should be done for its own sake and other people shouldn't be told about it. Those who make a display of how good and pious they are called hypocrites. But *sanctimony*, or *sanctimoniousness*, has often been a good strategy for American politicians, many of whom have found it a great way to win votes.

(1) Most sacred or holy. (2) Treated as if holy and therefore immune from criticism or disturbance of any kind.

*Sacrosanct* means literally “made holy by a sacred rite,” and in its original use the word was reserved for things of the utmost holiness. But *sacrosanct* is now used to describe a questionable sacredness which nevertheless makes something immune from attack or violation; that is, the person using the word usually doesn't regard the thing as sacred at all. So to call a government program sacrosanct is to imply that others regard it as untouchable. And a piece of writing is more likely to be thought of as sacrosanct by its author than by the editor who has to fix it up.

(1) A holy place, such as a church or temple, or the most holy part of one. (2) A place of safety, refuge, and protection.

Historically, churches have been places where fugitives could seek at least temporary protection from the law. In Anglo-Saxon England, churches and churchyards generally provided 40 days of immunity, and neither the sheriffs nor the army would enter to seize the outlaw. But gradually the right of sanctuary was eroded. In 1486 sanctuary for the crime of treason was disallowed, and sanctuary for most other crimes was severely restricted by Henry VIII and later abolished. In the 1980s many U.S. churches provided sanctuary to political refugees from Central America, and the U.S. government mostly chose not to interfere. Today, wildlife sanctuaries provide protection for the species within its boundaries, and farm-animal sanctuaries now rescue livestock from abuse and starvation.

A conference in which various speakers take turns lecturing on a subject and then answering questions about it.

A *colloquy* is a conversation, and especially an important, high-level discussion. *Colloquy* and *colloquium* once meant the same thing, though today *colloquium* always refers to a conference. Because of its old “conversation” meaning, however, a colloquium is a type of conference with important question-and-answer periods.

A dramatic speech that represents a series of unspoken thoughts.

Since *solus* means “alone” in Latin, soliloquies take place when a character is alone onstage, or maybe spotlighted off to one side of a dark stage. Novels have no trouble in expressing to the reader a character's personal thoughts, but such expression is less natural to stage drama. The soliloquies of Shakespeare—in *Hamlet* (“To be or not to be”), *Macbeth* (“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow”), *Romeo and Juliet* (“But soft! what light from yonder window breaks”), etc.—are the most famous, but modern playwrights such as Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller, and Sam Shepard have also employed them.

Conversational in style.

Since *colloquy* means basically “conversation,” colloquial language is the language almost all of us speak. It uses contractions (“can't,” “it's,” “they've”), possibly some slang, lots of short words and not many long ones. But our language usually changes when we write, becoming more formal and sometimes even “literary.” Except in e-mails and text messages, many people never write a contraction or use the word “I”, and avoid informal words completely. But colloquial language isn't necessarily bad in writing, and it's sometimes more appropriate than the alternative.

Apt to talk too much; talkative.

A loquacious speaker can leave a big audience stifling its yawns after the first 45 minutes, and the *loquaciousness* of a dinner guest can keep everyone else from getting a word in edgewise. Loquacious letters used to go on for pages, and a loquacious author might produce a 1,200-page novel. Lincoln's brief 269-word Gettysburg Address was delivered after a two-hour, 13,000-word speech by America's most famous orator, a windbag of *loquacity*.