What I heard was my whole self saying and singing what it knew: I can.

Both art and faith are dependent on imagination; both are ventures into the unknown.

Yes, he is here in this open field, in sunlight, among the few young trees set out to modify the bare facts-- he's here, but only because we are here. When we go, he goes with us to be your hands that never do violence, your eyes that wonder, your lives that daily praise life by living it, by laughter. He is never alone here, never cold in the field of graves.

There is no savor more sweet, more salt than to be glad to be what, woman, and who, myself, I am.

Very few people really see things unless they've had someone in early life who made them look at things. And name them too. But the looking is primary, the focus.

I thought I was growing wings— it was a cocoon. I thought, now is the time to step into the fire— it was deep water. Eschatology is a word I learned as a child: the study of Last Things; facing my mirror—no longer young, the news—always of death, the dogs—rising from sleep and clamoring and howling, howling.... ("Seeing For a Moment")

In city, in suburb, in forest, no way to stretch out the arms - so if you would grow, go straight up or deep down.