All that we do is touched with ocean, and yet we remain on the shore of what we know

Outside the open window The morning air is all awash with angels.

What is the opposite of two? A lonely me, a lonely you.

Teach me, like you, to drink creation whole/ And casting out myself, become a soul.

The eye is pleased when nature stoops to art.

There is a poignancy in all things clear, In the stare of the deer, in the ring of a hammer in the morning. Seeing a bucket of perfectly lucid water We fall to imagining prodigious honesties.

Step off assuredly into the blank of your mind. Something will come to you.

The strength of the genie comes from being in a bottle.

Whatever pains disease may bring Are but the tangy seasoning To Loves delicious fare.

Writing is?waiting for the word that may not be there until next Tuesday.

Oh, let there be nothing on earth but laundry, Nothing but rosy hands in the rising steam And clear dances done in the sight of heaven.

Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.

Hate is a wounded heart.

No matter how much territory the wolf conquers the lion will still rule the jungle.

Contemplate the wonders of creation, the Divine dimension of their being, not as a dim configuration that is presented to you from a distance, but as the reality in which you live.

I feel passionate about solving the climate crisis.

Everyone judges plays as if they were very easy to write. They don't know that it is hard to write a good play, and twice as hardand tortuous to write a bad one.

It's easy to focus on the differences, harder to find the similarities in people.

The means by which we live have outdistanced the ends for which we live.

I shake my head and the tiny acrobats fall like spangles, like the cool rain on another planet, down to the inside of my feet.

It's interesting that people bring different things to oppressive and difficult situations, when they're reduced to the barest terms of survival. That's what provides tension in a lot of films.