In behaving respectfully toward all that the land contains, it is possible to imagine a stifling ignorance falling away from us.

There's so much to be afraid of.

If there is a stage at which an individual life becomes truly adult, it must be when one grasps the irony in its unfolding and accepts responsibility for a life lived in the midst of such paradox.

My function as a writer is to provide an atmosphere in which people can think wisely about what we're doing on this planet.

Everything is held together with stories. That is all that is holding us together, stories and compassion.

I lay there knowing something eerie ties us to the world of animals. Sometimes the animals pull you backward into it. You share hunger and fear with them like salt in blood.

The land retains an identity of its own, still deeper and more subtle than we can know. Our obligation toward it then becomes simple: to approach with an uncalculating mind, with an attitude of regard...be alert for its openings, for that moment when something sacred reveals itself within the mundane, and you know the land knows you are there.