Do you wrestle with dreams?  Do you contend with shadows?  Do you move in a kind of sleep?  Time has slipped away.  Your life is stolen.  You tarried with trifles,  Victim of your folly.

You know what a miracle is. Not what Bakunin said. But another world’s intrusion into this one. Most of the time we coexist peacefully, but when we do touch there’s cataclysm.

Humans are so innately hardwired for language that they can no more suppress their ability to learn and use language than they can suppress the instinct to pull a hand back from a hot surface.

Written By Steven Pinker

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