Salt is added to dried rose petals with the perfume and spices, when we store them away in covered jars, the summers of our past.

Salt is added to dried rose petals with the perfume and spices, when we store them away in covered jars, the summers of our past.

Wisdom. . .is knowing what you have to accept.

You married me...but you didn't marry what you could make out of me.

The meeting of writer and reader is an intimate act, and it properly takes place in private.

When I was twenty I was in love with words, a wordsmith. I didn't know enough to know when people were letting words get in their way. Now I like the words to disappear, like a transparent curtain.

Something will have gone out of us as a people if we ever let the remaining wilderness be destroyed ... We simply need that wild country available to us, even if we never do more than drive to its edge and look in.