Always there is something worth saying about glory, about gratitude.

I GO DOWN TO THE SHORE I go down to the shore in the morning and depending on the hour the waves are rolling in or moving out, and I say, oh, I am miserable, what shall— what should I do? And the sea says in its lovely voice: Excuse me, I have work to do.

It is what I was born for - to look, to listen, to lose myself inside this soft world - to instruct myself over and over.

Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.

In my own work, I usually revise through forty or fifty drafts of a poem before I begin to feel content with it.

I held my breath as we do sometimes to stop time when something wonderful has touched us.

I would say that there exists a thousand unbreakable links between each of us and everything else, and that our dignity and our chances are one. The farthest star and the mud at our feet are a family; and there is no decency or sense in honoring one thing, or a few things, and then closing the list. The pine tree, the leopard, the Platte River, and ourselves-we are at risk together, or we are on our way to a sustainable world together, we are each other's destiny.