Stories are medicine. They have such power; they do not require that we do, be, act anything - we need only listen.

The wild woman is fluent in the language of dreams, images, passion, and poetry.

Go out in the woods, go out. If you don't go out in the woods nothing will ever happen and your life will never begin.

When a woman is frozen of feeling, when she can no longer feel herself, when her blood, her passion, no longer reach the extremities of her psyche, when she is desperate; then a fantasy life is far more pleasurable than anything else she can set her sights upon. Her little match lights, because they have no wood to burn, instead burn up the psyche as though it were a big dry log. The psyche begins to play tricks on itself; it lives now in the fantasy fire of all yearning fulfilled. This kind of fantasizing is like a lie: If you tell it often enough, you begin to believe it.

All that you are seeking is also seeking you. If you lie still, sit still, it will find you. It has been waiting for you a long time.

The predation of wolves and women by those who misunderstand them is strikingly similar.

Rather than chairs and tables, I preferred the ground, trees, and caves, for in those places I felt I could lean against the cheek of God.