Every morning I walk like this around the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart ever close, I am as good as dead.
Mary OliverWhat misery to be afraid of death. What wretchedness, to believe only in what can be proven.
Mary OliverEvery morning I walk like this around the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart ever close, I am as good as dead.
Mary OliverWhat misery to be afraid of death. What wretchedness, to believe only in what can be proven.
Mary Oliver