Warren G. Harding is a man who wrote simple declarative sentences with seven grammatical errors.
Warren G. Harding is not a man with either the experience or the intellectual quality that the position needed.
Warren G. Harding is a politician who writes the worst English one has ever encountered, reminding one of a string of wet sponges: it reminds one of tattered washing on the line: it reminds one of stale bean soup, of college yells.
Warren G. Harding is a tin-horn politician with the manner of a rural corn doctor and the mien of a ham actor.
Warren G. Harding is a man who writes the worst English that you have ever encountered. It reminds of a string of wet sponges; it reminds of tattered washing on the line; it reminds of stale bean soup, of dogs barking through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of the dark abyss of pish and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash.
Warren G. Harding is a man whose speeches left the impression of an army of pompous phrases moving over the landscape in search of an idea.