My first two books are out of print and, okay, they can sleep there comfortably. It's early work, derivative work.

Said the river: imagine everything you can imagine, then keep on going.

Ten times a day something happens to me like this - some strengthening throb of amazement - some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness.

Love, love, love, says Percy. And hurry as fast as you can along the shining beach, or the rubble, or the dust. Then, go to sleep. Give up your body heat, your beating heart. Then, trust.

Tell me what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? When it's over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride, married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. Instructions for living a life: pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.

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

I went to India and was quite taken with it. There's a feeling there that things are holy first and useful second. And in America, we have it backwards.