A labyrinth is a symbolic journey . . . but it is a map we can really walk on, blurring the difference between map and world.

There are disasters that are entirely manmade, but none that are entirely natural.

For many years, I have been moved by the blue at the far edge of what can be seen, that color of horizons, of remote mountain ranges, of anything far away. The color of that distance is the color of an emotion, the color of solitude and of desire, the color of there seen from here, the color of where you are not. And the color of where you can never go.

People rescue each other. They build shelters and community kitchens and ways to deal with lost children and eventually rebuild one way or another.

You don't have to be a preacher to talk about what matters, and you don't have to drop the pleasures of style

Walking articulates both physical and mental freedom.

We are often in two places at once. In fact we are usually in at least two places and occasionally the contrast is evident....Here, most often, is nothing more than the best perspective to contemplate there.