...the City is what they want it to be: thriftless, warm, scary and full of amiable strangers. No wonder they forget pebbly creeks and when they do not forget the sky completely think of it as a tiny piece of information about the time of day or night.

We mistook violence for passion, indolence for leisure, and thought recklessness was freedom.

No gasp at a miracle that is truly miraculous because the magic lies in the fact that you knew it was there for you all along.

Language alone protects us from the scariness of things with no names. Language alone is meditation.

Can't nothing heal without pain, you know.

Sifting daylight dissolves the memory, turns it into dust motes floating in light.

Love is divine only and difficult always. If you think it is easy you are a fool. If you think it is natural you are blind. It is a learned application without reason or motive except that it is God.