Obsequious.

Obsequious - simply for the way it sounds. I do wish that I would encounter more obsequious people in my daily travails. It isn't fair that only the moneyed should have them.

C.M. Tippens

Obstreperous.

This is my favorite word since it describes to a "t" a dear friend of mine who passed away. Anytime I hear the word (which is rarely) it reminds me of my friend. In addition, I find the word virtually impossible to say. I get tongue tied every time I try.

Stephen Schnurmacher

Obviate.

Today I might say my favorite word is obviate. I like it because its meaning is counterintuitive (another pretty cool word, by the way) to the way it sounds. To obviate something is to make it unnecessary, as in "An engaging book will obviate the need for a mindless sitcom." On other days, candidates might include intransigent, ubiquitous, or the ever popular feh. Ten points extra if you can use them all in the same sentence!

Dave Wilke

Octopi.

Really it is quite silly. Two of my friends and myself were sitting around after dinner one night and Cary says "Do you ever hear a word that doesn't really sound like a word?" (Silly question, I know) Well, Christine answers with almost no hesitation at all, as if she had been waiting her whole life for someone to ask her that question. She says, "Oh yes! You mean like octopi or zoo?" I know you had to be there but it really was funny. So now whenever I think of that word or hear it (which isn't often) I think of that night and how much fun I had with those two friends.

So there it is.

Amy E. Huffman

Ointment.

I don't know the origin of this strange word, but I like the oink sound of it and I like that it is kind of gooey sounding. It is a good word to work into a conversation, it has substance.

John Noble

Oneiric.

Adjective, meaning "relating to dreams or dreaming."

Straight from the Ancient Greek, this delicious word for dreaming grounds the language of the heart with an etymological wink to the foundation of occidental mythology, philosophy, and civilisation.

Part of oneiric's charm is its sonorous similarity to onanism (where the reductive intellectual misinterpretation of dreams will lead you), onerous (an apt word for a life without dream), and oenology (the study of wine, that great stirrer of dreams).

Its slight obscurity has thankfully shielded it from the corrupted consumerism and politicisation that encumbers "dream."

But it's the way oneiric instantly releases a poetic sensibility that makes me love it so much. Wings may let you fly, but oneiric wings, like the little ones on Hermes’ boots, lift not just the mind and body, but the soul and spirit as well.

Used carefully, an oneiric modification will lift a leaden thought and instantly lead you somewhere unexpected.

Peter Fyfe, playwright
Sydney, Australia

My favorite word is a Yiddish word, ongepatsht, meaning "a little too much" (Americanized: ongapatchka). To me, the word sounds like its definition - very messy, crowded with "things," none of them matching or belonging together. I use it mainly when I'm talking about a house or room, that is decorated with something everywhere you look, on every table/counter top, on every wall.

Meryl Fisher

Onomatopoeia.

This is a favorite word mainly because it is so fun to pronounce. It just rolls out of the mouth. It is probably one of the earliest big words that kids learn in school. The other fun aspect of the word is that, if someone asks for an example of what the word means, you get to make all sorts of funny noises like oink, pop, woof, meow, buzz, etc.

Martin Celusnak

Onomatopoeia.

I love both the pronunciation and meaning of the word, but it is the sound of onomatopoeia being spelled aloud that makes it my favorite. It must be all of the vowels -- it's a terribly fun word to spell.

Kris

Onomatopoeia.

I've always loved Onomatopoeia. If, as a small child, I could pronounce it properly when my father asked, he would demand a definition. And I got to use any lovely, ugly, funny, nasty examples I could think up, short of downright swearing.

And I like Pastiche, the definition of which I just learned while checking its spelling. It has always made me think of pale green, crunchy ice cream. I like my definition better.

Gail Jorgensen

Onomatopoeia.

Because when I started Introduction to Literature at the University I had never heard that word before.  Looking it up in the dictionary,  my then-boyfriend and I decided to name our first child "Onomatopoeia" just because ... just because to annoy the poor little thing!

Considering our particular taste in names, I guess our hypothetical children are lucky that we will actually never have kids...

Eva Weiand

Onomatopoeia.

Probably because of its sonority -- the way it rolls "trippingly off the tongue." (Come to think of it, sonority and trippingly aren't that bad, either!) -- and I note that Onomatopoeia seems to have a lot of friends!

Edward G. Robles

Ornithopter.

Why? It's just a freaking cool word. Sure, there probably is no reason to use it in modern-day speech (unless you are talking about one of the old-time inventions), but it sure is a cool word to say randomly!

Erin

Osmium.

My favorite word is osmium, which I understand from the dictionary to be one of the chemical elements: a dark and bad smelling substance. I have never seen any. Perhaps if I had it would not be such an attractive word for me.  I am not sure why I like it. I think it's just the sound. I used to have fountain pens, when a child, made by a company called Osmoroid. Perhaps that where the happy association comes from.

I discovered that osmium is a component of a hard alloy called osmoridium which was used to tip pen nibs. I suppose this is where Osmoroid got their product name from.

Rob Wheeler

What a word -- it was one of those English grammar words that you never forget.  It makes fun of what I see is life -- we describe so much of our lives as having bad luck, or being alone together.

Ang

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