So we found the end of our journey. So we stood, alive in the river of light, Among the creatures of light, creatures of light.

The progress of any writer is marked by those moments when he manages to outwit his own inner police system.

There is no better way to know us Than as two wolves, come separately to a wood.

What’s writing really about? It’s about trying to take fuller possession of the reality of your life.

The inmost spirit of poetry, in other words, is at bottom, in every recorded case, the voice of pain – and the physical body, so to speak, of poetry, is the treatment by which the poet tries to reconcile that pain with the world.

The wolf is living for the earth.

Haven’t you heard of the music of the spheres?” asked the dragon. “It’s the music that space makes to itself. All the spirits inside all the stars are singing. I’m a star spirit. I sing too. The music of the spheres is what makes space so peaceful.