One could go on revising a prose page forever whereas there is a point in a poem when one knows it is done forever.

Human relations just are not fixed in their orbits like the planets -- they're more like galaxies, changing all the time, exploding into light for years, then dying away.

The ambience here is order and beauty. That is what frightens me when I am first alone again. I feel inadequate. I have made an open place, a place for meditation. What if I cannot find myself inside it?

Words are more powerful than perhaps anyone suspects, and once deeply engraved in a child's mind, they are not easily eradicated.

When addressed, a Gentleman Cat does not move a muscle. He looks as if he hasn't heard.

So let the world go, but hold fast to joy.

Gardening is the instrument of grace.