And that is just the point... how the world, moist and beautiful, calls to each of us to make a new and serious response. That's the big question, the one the world throws at you every morning. "Here you are, alive. Would you like to make a comment?

What can we do but keep on breathing in and out, modest and willing, and in our places?

I don't know lots of things but I know this: next year when spring flows over the starting point I'll think I'm going to drown in the shimmering miles of it.

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

Today I am altogether without ambition. Where did I get such wisdom?

The face of the moose is as sad as the face of Jesus.

Music: what so many sentences aspire to be.