Complexity excites the mind, and order rewards it. In the garden, one finds both, including vanishingly small orders too complex to spot, and orders so vast the mind struggles to embrace them.

Much of life becomes background, but it is the province of art to throw buckets of light into the shadows and make life new again.

A self is a frightening thing to waste, it's the lens through which one's whole life is viewed, and few people are willing to part with it, in death, or even imaginatively, in art.

Mystery causes a mental itch, which the brain tries to soothe with the balm of reasonable talk.

When I go biking, I am mentally far far away from civilization. The world is breaking someone else's heart.

Though most of us don't hunt, our eyes are still the great monopolists of our senses. To taste or touch your enemy or your food, you have to be unnervingly close to it. To smell or hear it, you can risk being further off. But vision can rush through the fields and up the mountains, travel across time, country, and parsecs of outer space, and collect bushel baskets of information as it goes. Animals that hear high frequencies better than we do

Nature is also great fun. To pretend that nature isn't fun is to miss much of the joy of being alive.