What can we do about God, who makes and then breaks every god-forsaken, beautiful day?

The god of dirt came up to me many times and said so many wise and delectable things, I lay on the grass listening to his dog voice, frog voice; now, he said, and now, and never once mentioned forever from, One or Two Things

But I also say this: that light is an invitation to happiness, and that happiness, when it's done right, is a kind of holiness, palpable and redemptive.

So this is how you swim inward. So this is how you flow outwards. So this is how you pray.

I feel the terror of idleness, like a red thirst. Death isn't just an idea.

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

I wanted the past to go away, I wanted to leave it, like another country; I wanted my life to close, and open like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song where it falls down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery; I wanted to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know, whoever I was, I was alive for a little while.