Writing at least is a silent meditation even though you’re going a hundred miles an hour.
It was a rainy night. It was the myth of the rainy night.
I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars.
It's all too much and not enough at the same time.
...do you think God made the world to amuse himself because he was bored? Because if so he would have to be mean.
Jumping from boulder to boulder and never falling, with a heavy pack, is easier than it sounds; you just can't fall when you get into the rhythm of the dance.