Let the earth look at me, and bless me, for now I am fecund and sacred, like the palms and the furrows.

You shall create beauty not to excite the senses but to give sustenance to the soul.

A crippled child Said, "How shall I dance?" Let your heart dance We said. Then the invalid said: "How shall I sing?" Let your heart sing We said Then spoke the poor dead thistle, "But I, how shall I dance?" Let your heart fly to the wind We said. Then God spoke from above "How shall I descend from the blue?" Come dance for us here in the light We said. All the valley is dancing Together under the sun, And the heart of him who joins us not Is turned to dust, to dust.

I have all that I lost and I go carrying my childhood like a favorite flower that perfumes my hand.

Let the earth look at me, and bless me, for now I am fecund and sacred, like the palms and the furrows.

Love that stammers, that stutters, is apt to be the love that loves best.

There is the joy of being healthy and fair, but there is overall the beauty, the immense joy of being useful.