I break up through the skin of awareness a thousand times a day, as dolphins burst through seas, and dive again, and rise, and dive.

if you stay still, earth buries you, ready or not.

He judged the instant and let go; he flung himself loose into the stars.

Knowing you are alive is watching on every side your generation's short time falling away as fast as rivers drop through air, and feeling it hit.

Write about winter in the summer. Describe Norway as Ibsen did, from a desk in Italy; describe Dublin as James Joyce did, from a desk in Paris. Willa Cather wrote her prairie novels in New York City; Mark Twain wrote Huckleberry Finn in Hartford, Connecticut. Recently, scholars learned that Walt Whitman rarely left his room.

The creative process obtains in all creative acts. So if I'm painting suddenly I'll see something that I didn't see before.

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