Shaped a little like a loaf of French country bread, our brain is a crowded chemistry lab, bustling with nonstop neural conversations.Imagine the brain, that shiny mound of being, that mouse-gray parliament of cells, that dream factory, that petit tyrant inside a ball of bone, that huddle of neurons calling all the plays, that little everywhere, that fickle pleasuredome, that wrinkled wardrobe of selves stuffed into the skull like too many clothes into a gym bag.

Above all, we ask the poet to teach us a way of seeing.

When I set a glass prism on a windowsill and allow the sun to flood through it, a spectrum of colors dances on the floor. What we call "white" is a rainbow of colored rays packed into a small space. The prism sets them free. Love is the white light of emotion.

We can't enchant the world, which makes its own magic; but we can enchant ourselves by paying deep attention

I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.

Hurricane season brings a humbling reminder that, despite our technologies, most of nature remains unpredictable.

Love is the best school, but the tuition is high and the homework can be painful.