Language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no names.

In this line, Morrison stresses naming as a form of protection: when experience is put into words, it becomes thinkable, shareable, and therefore less tyrannical. “Things with no names” suggests trauma, taboo, or social realities that are kept unspoken; their power grows in silence because they cannot be examined or contested. Language, then, is not merely descriptive but ethical and political—an instrument for making the unknown legible and for resisting fear, erasure, and domination. The claim also implies a communal dimension: once named, an experience can enter collective understanding, allowing solidarity and action rather than isolated dread.