Blind obedience in the name of patriotism or religion ultimately takes our lives.

As a writer, I have learned that each time I pick up my pencil I betray someone.

The pain that we feel when we are making love with someone is that we know it will end. It's that paradoxical response of joy and suffering.

Perhaps the Wilderness we fear is the pause between our own heartbeats, the silence that reminds us we live by grace.

I love the interrelatedness of things.

Pico Iyer describes his writing as "intimate letters to a stranger," and I think that is what the writing process is. It begins with a question, and then you follow this path of exploration.

Finding beauty in a broken world is creating beauty in the world we find. For me, we find this beauty through relationships, with people in place with other species. Integrity is the word that comes to mind. Integrity and presence.