'do you want to hear an interesting fact?' said jo. 'eskimos apparently have over fifty different word for snow. snow's really important to those guys - i suppose it's because sometimes the difference between one type and another can mean the difference between life and death. 'she paused and laughed self-consciously. 'you know they've got words for dry snow and wet snow, fluffy snow and compact snow. they've got words for snow that comes down fast and snow that comes down slow - they've thought of everything.'
'that's a lot of snow,' commented rob as his eyes flicked to a scruffy-looking mongrel crossing the road in front of them, oblivious to the night bus hurtling towards it. it only narrowly missed being hit, but continued coolly on its journey to the bin outside the off-licence, which it sniffed studiously, then cocked a leg against it.
'so, what's your point?' asked rob.
'well, it's like this,' replied jo. 'if eskimos can come up with fifty words for snow because it's a matter of life or death, why is it that we've only got one word for 'love'?'
"Mike Gayle - Brand New Friend"