There is 'a time to be born' - and born again, free of accumulated, encrusted sores of fears and prejudices, old hates, of cancerous wounds, old prides. And there is a time to die - a time for the blue, unburied child of our young years to be decently interred - and to get on with the living.

New gods arise when they are needed.

Teach the legal rights of trees, the nobility of hills; respect the beauty of singularity, the value of solitude.

And blessed are they who have learned the rhythms of the invisible clock whose hours and minutes are immense and soundless. The great clock of the seasons and the years, and the small clock of the intuition, whose timing is guided by the heart.

The writer's advantage, in some respects, over those whose expression lies in other fields, is in the privilege of a double - sometimes a triple - living. Pleasure multiplied in the mirrors of words, and pain siphoned off in words.

... love and fear increase together with a precision almost mathematical: the greater the love is then the greater the fear is.

things that have cost more than they're worth leave a bitter taste. A taste of salt and sweat.