Along with the differences that abide in each of us, there is also in each of us a maverick, the darling stubborn one who won't listen, who insists, who chooses preference or the spirited guess over yardsticks or even history. I suspect this maverick is somewhat what the soul is, or at least that the soul lives close by and companionably with its agitating and inquiring force.

I worked probably 25 years by myself, just writing and working, not trying to publish much, not giving readings.

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

Attention without feeling is only a report.

I don't ask for the sights in front of me to change, only the depth of my seeing.

Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed.

We need beauty because it makes us ache to be worthy of it.