Be joyful because it is humanly possible.

Like the water of a deep stream, love is always too much. We did not make it. Though we drink till we burst, we cannot have it all, or want it all. In its abundance it survives our thirst. In the evening we come down to the shore to drink our fill, and sleep, while it flows through the regions of the dark. It does not hold us, except we keep returning to its rich waters thirsty. We enter, willing to die, into the commonwealth of its joy.

How do we submit? By not being radical enough. Or by not being thorough enough, which is the same thing.

The securest guarantee of the long-term good health of both farmland and city is, I believe, locally produced food.

It's the impeded stream that sings

When I rise up, let me rise up joyful like a bird. When I fall, let me fall without regret like a leaf.

It may be that when we no longer know... which way to go we have begun our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings.