Shelter in winter that day --a storm coming, but in the leeof an island in a cover with friends --oh, little bright cup of sun.

It is as if the ordinary language we use every day has a hidden set of signals; a kind of secret code.

They miss the whisper that runsany day in your mind,"Who are you really, wanderer?"and the answer you have to giveno matter how dark and coldthe world around you is:"Maybe I'm a king."

He comes out every day. He comes out just like we do. He's just trying to get better.

I am a person a dictionary-maker has to contend with. I am a living evidence in the development of language.

These words that occur to me come out of my relation to the language which is developing even as I am using it.