We can redream this world and make the dream come real. Human beings are gods hidden from themselves.

We have not yet arrived, but every point at which we stop requires a re-definition of our destination.

An inner darkness is darker than an outer darkness.

In the beginning there was a river. The river became a road and the road branched out to the whole world. And because the road was once a river it was always hungry.

It is easy to forget how mysterious and mighty stories are. They do their work in silence, invisibly. They work with all the internal materials of your mind and self. They become part of you while changing you. Beware the stories you read or tell; subtly, at night, beneath the waters of consciousness, they are altering your world.

We have fallen into this very mean description of humanity. Naturalism in fiction is too reductive in its definition of human beings.

People are as healthy and confident as the stories they tell themselves.