Our land passes in and out of our bodies just as our bodies pass in and out of our land

Some nights in the midst of this loneliness I swung among the scattered stars at the end of the thin thread of faith alone.

I don't believe that grief passes away. It has its time and place forever. More time is added to it; it becomes a story within a story. But grief and griever alike endure.

If you start a conversation with the assumption that you are right or that you must win, obviously it is difficult to talk.

A corporation, essentially, is a pile of money to which a number of persons have sold their moral allegiance.

In this state of total consumerism-which is to say a state of helpless dependence on things and services and ideas and motives that we have forgotten how to provide ourselves-all meaningful contact between ourselves and the earth is broken. We do not understand the earth in terms either of what it offers us or of what it requires of us, and I think it is the rule that people inevitably destroy what they do not understand.

We don't have a right to ask whether we're going to succeed or not. The only question we have a right to ask is what's the right thing to do? What does this earth require of us if we want to continue to live on it?