Ravens are the birds I'll miss most when I die. If only the darkness into which we must look were composed of the black light of their limber intelligence. If only we did not have to die at all. Instead, become ravens.

Freedom, I found is not only in the running but in the heart, the mind, the hands.

We all got holes in our lives. Nobody dies in a perfect garment.

It's impossible to write about Native life without humor-that's how people maintain sanity.

I am part of what she thinks is her illness, a symptom of which she thinks she has been cured. She, on the other hand, is what I was looking for.

Here is the most telling fact: you wish to possess me.
 Here is another fact: I loved you and let you think you could.

All through my life I never did believe in human measurement. Numbers, time, inches, feet. All are just ploys for cutting nature down to size. I know the grand scheme of the world is beyond our brains to fathom, so I don't try, just let it in.