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

And to tell the truth I don't want to let go of the wrists of idleness, I don't want to sell my life for money, I don't even want to come in out of the rain.

The sea can do craziness, it can do smooth, it can lie down like silk breathing or toss havoc shoreward; it can give gifts or withhold all; it can rise, ebb, froth like an incoming frenzy of fountains, or it can sweet-talk entirely. As I can too, and so, no doubt, can you, and you.

Still, what I want in my life is to be willing to be dazzled---to cast aside the weight of facts and maybe even to float a little above this difficult world.

Wild sings the bird of the heart in the forests of our lives.

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it.

Maybe the world, without us, is the real poem.