By mid-morning a rain as fine as silk spills was weaving over the lake.

Listen - man is a child of Nature. When he turns against his mother - he's done! He may not find out about it right away, but he will.

There is too much doing - too little being! When we begin to get strenuous, life begins to grow intolerable.

A sickness ... defines margins, crystallizes the shape of things.

A false vision was better than none.

You have stirred the soil with your plow, my friend. It will never be the same again.

God, what pathetic creatures had inherited the earth, to walk a little while with their eyes upon the stars and turn their gaze too soon upon the ground that held their feet!