East of the sun and west of the moon.

That's the trouble with loving a wild thing: You're always left watching the door.

East of the sun and west of the moon.

A pine needle fell in the forest. The hawk saw it. The deer heard it. The white bear smelled it

The joy I feel is immense; it burns inside me as though I have swallowed a piece of the sun.

It was the difference between walking with a stranger and walking with your heartmate. It was the difference between working for duty and working for love.

And telling a story, I suppose, is like winding a skein of spun yarn- you sometimes lose track of the beginning.