When When it’s over, it’s over, and we don’t know any of us, what happens then. So I try not to miss anything. I think, in my whole life, I have never missed The full moon or the slipper of its coming back. Or, a kiss. Well, yes, especially a kiss.

Who knows what will happen or where I will be sent, yet already I have given a great many things away, expecting to be told to pack nothing, except the prayers which, with this thirst, I am slowly learning.

A dog can never tell you what she knows from the smells of the world, but you know, watching her, that you know almost nothing.

And over one more set of hills, along the sea, the last roses have opened their factories of sweetness and are giving it back to the world. If I had another life I would want to spend it all on some unstinting happiness.

Attention without feeling is only a report.

To find a new word that is accurate and different, you have to be alert for it.

Though I play at the edges of knowing, truly I know our part is not knowing, but looking, and touching, and loving