There are secrets in letters.
First, a secret that all design works share: the inspiration and mindset of its creator within the shape. It's fascinating, like a detective story, it's illuminating, complimentary.
It can be artificial, like a simple enveloppe of sugar around the core part of the object. Or not.
Example:
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| http://bella-elizabetta.deviantart.com/art/Prestige-Typography-3-105501700 |
Secondly, a secret that is unique to type, the relationship between the shape to all possible extents of the text content, which is pretty much infinite, as there is no end in trying to enunciate what a letter, a word, can mean: first the sounds of letters and words, then the images the letters and words bring, then the immediate meaning of the word, then the memories it brings, then the relationships between those things together (sounds with memories, images with meaning,...etc), then the deeper meaning underneath the meaning, and so forth.
This aspect of the text is outside the hands of the author. We must believe, assume, or hope, or feel, how an author has conquered that side of things. This secret does not exist with the same depth in other designs: a chair, a church, a dress or a sound does not reverberate and interconnect as much as a word, so I think.
Example:
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| http://www.welcometoollywood.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/TrajanColumn3.jpg |
A secret, something that each typographer should study (like sculptors should study greek statues, or architects should study greek buildings. (There's a reason this blog is called typologia after all)).


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