The world has been forced to its knees. Unhappily, we seldom find our way there without being beaten to it by suffering.

I have been overcome by the beauty and richness of our life together, those early mornings setting out, those evenings gleaming with rivers and lakes below us, still holding the last light.

One must lose one's life to find it.

The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea.

Perhaps middle-age is, or should be, a period of shedding shells; the shell of ambition, the shell of material accumulations and possessions, the shell of the ego.

I find the weight of air/Almost too great to bear.

It isn't for the moment you are struck that you need courage, but for that long uphill climb back to sanity and faith and security.