Every year without knowing it I have passed the day When the last fires will wave to me

Separation Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.

From what we cannot hold the stars are made.

Your absence has gone through me

come back believer in shade believer in silence and elegance believer in ferns believer in patience believer in the rain

On the last day of the world I would want to plant a tree

We are asleep with compasses in our hands.

I say to my breath once again, little breath come from in front of me, go away behind me, row me quietly now, as far as you can, for I am an abyss that I am trying to cross.

Poetry is a way of looking at the world for the first time.

The story of each stone leads back to a mountain.

Now all my teachers are dead except silence.

To be filled with fear is to open to the wrong way

You must walk on water, especially if you don’t know how to swim.

One of the biggest lies that is currently being told in the USA workplace is on the legally required OSHA poster: All workers have the right to a safe workplace.

Pay attention to your thoughts and your words, because they are responding with similar events

Among a hundred windows shining dully in the vast side of greater-than-palace number such-and-such one burns these several years, each night as if the room within were aflame.

There's no excuse therefore, for a 1,152 page book. I think we should all be using 300-page paperbacks. These exist.

Every letter was a love letter.

Long before many of us were even conscious of our own degradation, these men [Marcus Garvey and W. E. B. DuBois] fought for African national and racial equality.

Love transforms one into what one loves.

As Regis Mckenna once said, the best marketing is education