His friends thought him mad, senile, or otherwise off his rocker when he told them that he was off in search of a single word. Why, they implored him, seek one word alone when lesser men had refused anything short of a full philosophy? Why, they continued, not require at least a full sentence or run-on? But his mind, though mad, senile, or otherwise off its rocker, set him onto the road. The long white band unwinding into the distance carried him through city and country towards that word which he could not find but needed, lost to those around him. When, at last, he reached road’s end, the word was not there.