Man is moved just like the ice floe sailing here and there out in the current. His thoughts are driven by a flowing force when he feels joy, when he feels fear, when he feels sorrow.
Thoughts can wash over him like a flood, making his breath come in gasps and his heart throb. Something like an abatement in the weather will keep him thawed up.
And then it will happen that we, who think we are small, will feel still smaller.
And we will fear to use words. When the words we want to use shoot up of themselves - we get a new song.
—Orpingalik, Inuit poet and shaman
via Parabola Magazine [one of my favorite Facebook likes]