I worked so hard all my life, and all I want to do now is read.

Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.

I still try to keep my eyes open. I'm always on the lookout for antlion traps in sandy soil, monarch pupae near milkweed, skipper larvae in locust leaves. These things are utterly common, and I've not seen one

Old memories are very easy to get except that once you write about something you've destroyed it.

Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we sense them.

It could be that our faithlessness is a cowering cowardice born of our very smallness, a massive failure of imagination... If we were to judge nature by common sense or likelihood, we wouldnt believe the world existed.

I think the dying pray at the last not "please," but "thank you," as a guest thanks his host at the door.