The Sentence is the Tombstone
The sentence is the tombstone of the thought that inspired it.
A thought flits around one’s brain, comes vaguely to awareness. Then a word attaches to it, perhaps a noun or verb. Perhaps an action will be involved or an observation on happenings or the perversity of happenings. As the thought firms more words attach, adjectives, adverbs, prepositions. Perhaps extra clauses are needed. Connecting words like ‘and’ and ‘but’ are added, and relative pronouns, ‘who’, ‘which’, ‘that’, and articles definite or indefinite. Then the sentence is complete, the thought is wholly formed.
You might look at the sentence, add or change a word or two, like laying flowers or adding a flourish to the gravestone but the thought is set. Whenever you look at that sentence you perceive the same thought. Others may look at it and see different things but you are a prisoner of your perception. You have buried the thought with your sentence. In your mind, it cannot connote a different thought.
At least for the moment. Visit it in ten years and things might be different.