Words are like people: even when you think you know them, they show up filled with surprises. And just like people, some words linger on while others come and go without asking. I love to watch words march across the page like little black ants. I love to walk into a room where sentences swirl like spaghetti, and when a new word bounces off me like a rock on a windshield I hurry to look it up before it disappears. Just as I have been told a person can't be too rich or too thin I figure it is not possible for anyone to have too many words. The more words we know the more clearly we speak; the more clearly we speak the better we understand each other. What could simpler than that? I like haiku, short stories, poems that fit on page, uncluttered paintings and little black dresses with pearls. As for our language, still growing faster than a downhill snowball, is it possible we are biting off more words than we can chew? (Gloria MacKay,from Foreword to the book)