At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear. It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us. You can love completely without complete understanding.

Now nearly all those I loved and did not understand when I was young are dead, but I still reach out to them.

One of life's quiet excitements is to stand somewhat apart from yourself and watch yourself softly becoming the author of something beautiful even if it is only a floating ash.

He told us about Christ's disciples being fisherman, and we were left to assume...that all great fishermen on the Sea of Galilee were fly fisherman and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman.

I am haunted by waters.

A river, though, has so many things to say that it is hard to know what it says to each of us.

At the time I did not know that stories of life are often more like rivers than books.