I will come back as a little breeze. You will feel me on your face, and you will know that I am still listening. So you can still talk to me.

I would make an anonymous call and say, this is someone who cares, do you know what kind of children you have?

My mind was in my heart, anchored like a bright kite in a safe place.

How important things had become, now that they were gone! I felt a sudden panic that I would soon forget everything.

I made cranberry sauce, and when it was done put it into a dark blue bowl for the beautiful contrast. I was thinking, doing this, about the old ways of gratitude: Indians thanking the deer they'd slain, grace before supper, kneeling before bed. I was thinking that gratitude is too much absent in our lives now, and we need it back, even if it only takes the form of acknowledging the blue of a bowl against the red of cranberries.

We are assumed to be rather hopeless - swallowed up by incorrect notions, divorced from the original genius with which we are born, lost within days of living this distracting life.

Ruth has friends like other people have wardrobes. I mean that there's someone for every occasion.