My mind possessed the wisdoms of the ages, and there were no words adequate to describe them.

Alice's best skill is her talent for putting her thoughts and feelings into words, but time and again she concedes defeat when it comes to explaining the hallucinogenic and emotional effects of drugs. At first, this untranslatable quality is the main appeal for drugs, but ultimately it conspires to alienate Alice from even her escapist reality—she needs to communicate with others, and drugs only create temporary and shallow relationships based on hedonism. Her dislocation from writing and words while on drugs becomes explicit when, under the influence of acid, Alice stares at her right hand for hours—her writing hand, in effect, becomes no longer a tool but an object of study.