"Stop that, you've made your point. Wilbur! Gert over here you turkey, come on. Stop eating the leaves and sticks. Do you want your stomach to blow up and butthole to burn like hell? I know, i know you want to play and go running, but we don't have the time.You're pent up with an escapade of energy, a inexhaustible drive to discover, to explore-- how am I suppose to help you? I let you go, you wait for me. Stop that neediness, would ya? You're your own creature expelled into my limited forbearing abilities--and you just look at me, despondent and trivialized, as if I yielded you the rags of my undergarments. What do you want from me? I've almost lost you time and time again. And the old destroyed tennis balls will fancy you for just a limited time... but then what? What next? Your companionship and loyalty and albeit yearnings in the morning at the window.. and for what? You don't even know. You just are."

Not everyone has to be literate, there are some great reasons for resisting language, and one of them is love.