They looked at each other, baffled, in love and hate.
Language fits over experience like a straight-jacket.
Art is partly communication, but only partly. The rest is discovery.
There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws.
Of the authors writing in English, I'd mention Shakespeare and Milton. But all this is terribly high-hat and makes me sound very po-faced, I'm afraid; however, I just happen to like these enormous, swinging, great creatures.
I am here; and here is nowhere in particular.