Philosophy means nothing unless it is connected to birth, death, and the continuance of life. Anytime you are going to build a society that works, you have to begin from nature and the body.

But still, the other voice, the intuitive, returns, like grass forcing its way through concrete.

We are nature. We are nature seeing nature. The red-winged blackbird flies in us.

Perhaps every moment of time lived in human consciousness remains in the air around us.

What is buried in the past of one generation falls to the next to claim.

Before a secret is told, one can often feel the weight of it in the atmosphere.

Each time I write, each time the authentic words break through, I am changed. The older order that I was collapses and dies. I lose control. I do not know exactly what words will appear on the page. I follow language. I follow the sound of the words, and I am surprised and transformed by what I record.