The unending paradox is that we do learn through pain.

We human beings grow through our failures, not our virtues.

An artist is someone who cannot rest, who can never rest as long as there is one suffering creature in the world.

We do not know what things look like. We know what things are like. It must be a very limiting thing,this seeing. -Aunt Beast

Wild nights are my glory!

If I sit for a while, then my impatience, crossness, frustration, are indeed annihilated, and my sense of humor returns.

Infinity is present in each part. A loving smile contains all art. The motes of starlight spark and dart. A grain of sand holds power and might.