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.

To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.

Wherever I am, the world comes after me. It offers me its busyness. It does not believe that I do not want it. Now I understand why the old poets of China went so far and high into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.

There are a hundred paths through the world that are easier than loving. But who wants easier?

Emerson, I am trying to live, as you said we must, the examined life. But there are days I wish there was less in my head to examine, not to speak of the busy heart.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination.

We can know a lot. And still, no doubt, there are rash and wonderful ideas brewing somewhere; there are many surprises yet to come.