The heartland lies where the heart longs to be. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to find the true place to plant it.

If you are faced with a mountain, you have several options. You can climb it and cross to the other side. You can go around it. You can dig under it. You can fly over it. You can blow it up. You can ignore it and pretend it’s not there. You can turn around and go back the way you came. Or you can stay on the mountain and make it your home.

A boomerang returns back to the person who throws it. But first, while moving in a circle, it hits its target. So does gossip.

Love - not dim and blind but so far-seeing that it can glimpse around corners, around bends and twists and illusion; instead of overlooking faults love sees through them to the secret inside.

A related recurring theme is the exploration of how we take for granted the things in our immediate environment that are common and ordinary. Existential blindness, of sorts.

I think fantasy literature is the one true literature of hope and imagination.

In the plains the grass grows tall, since there is no one to cut it. There is no one to water it either.