I’d like to go out in the front yard and shout something. “None of this is worth it!” That’s what I’d like people to hear.

there isn't enough of anything as long as we live. But at intervals a sweetness appears and, given a chance prevails.

Life and death matters, yes. And the question of how to behave in this world, how to go in the face of everything. Time is short and the water is rising.

That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.

Write about what you know, and what do you know better than your own secrets?

And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth.

I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone's heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.

It ought to make us feel ashamed when we talk like we know what we're talking about when we talk about love.

The places where water comes together with other water. Those places stand out in my mind like holy places.

Dreams, you know, are what you wake up from.

But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I feel like I could throw off sparks, or break a window--maybe rearrange all the furniture.

Hatred can be cured by love.

Wherever there is light, one can photograph.

I don't think you can ever regain your ignorance.

Reality and unreality have no clear distinction in our present circumstances.

My sense of proprietorship has been so weak that actually I didn't pay attention and I lost the copyrights on a lot of the songs.

If life is a loom, the pattern you weave is not so easily unraveled.

Looking for Narnia? You’re in the wrong universe

Knowledge is first and wisdom is the manifestation of knowledge. To understand this tone and pattern of thinking in the numerical way automatically resonated with me.

I admit that some of my ideas may have turned out to be pessimistic in nature.

Endless cricket, like endless anything else, simply grinds you down.