A runner is real when she takes the first step.

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.

I hope you will go out and let stories happen to you, and that you will work them, water them with your blood and tears and you laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom.

Be wild; that is how to clear the river.

Story is far older than the art of science and psychology, and will always be the elder in the equation no matter how much time passes.

The deterioration of symbols is natural. They wear out, needing to be reclaimed, recreated; returned to the spirit.

When we accept our own wild beauty, it is put into perspective, and we are no longer poignantly aware of it anymore, but neither would we forsake it or disclaim it either. Does a wolf know how beautiful she is when she leaps? Does a feline know what beautiful shapes she makes when she sits? Is a bird awed by the sound it hears when it snaps open its wings? Learning from them, we just act in our own true way and do not draw back from or hide our natural beauty. Like the creatures, we just are, and it is right.