Disassociating, mindfulness, transcendence-whatever the label-it's a sort of loophole in our contract with reality, a form of self-rescue.

In the early years of the Uprising, we survived on one meal a day of horse meat and soup, but by the end we ate only dried peas, dogs, cats and birds.

The more we exile ourselves from nature, the more we crave its miracle waters.

For the longest time I didn't realize I was creative - I just thought I was strange.

We have vexed and bothered every plant and every animal on every continent.

Nothing reveals more about the inner life of a people than their arts.

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.