INTRODUCTION

A Thesaurus, says the dictionary, is “a treasury or storehouse; hence a repository, especially of words, as a dictionary.” But, in a sense, this book is the opposite of a dictionary. You turn to a dictionary when you have a
word but are not sure enough what it means—how it has been used and what it may be expected to do. You turn
to the Thesaurus when you have your meaning already but don’t yet have the word. It may be on the tip of your
tongue, or in the back of your mind or the hollow of your thought, but what it is you don’t yet know. It is like the
missing piece of a puzzle. You know well enough that the other words you try out won’t do. They are not the right
shape. They say too much or too little. They haven’t the punch or have too much. They are too flat or too showy,
too kind or too cruel. But the word which just fills the - bill won’t come, so you reach for the Thesaurus.
Like the dictionary, it is a dangerous book in all sorts of ways. Sometimes you wake up—after half an hour—
and realize that the problem of the missing word is still where it was. You have just been wandering happily
about in the treasure house looking its riches over, for- getting what you came in for. It has worse dangers. Sometimes the words you find start new streams of thought which wash everything out. ...