There was something horribly depressing, she felt, about watching the weather report. That life could be planned like the perfect summer picnic drained it of spontaneity.

The map was just an accessory. She knew exactly where she was.

And she had been in love enough times to rule out the possibility that this was merely some feat of nostalgia.

Time passed at an accelerated pace. They could be sitting in traffic or talking on the phone or waiting in line for a movie, and their time felt precious, important, worthwhile.

You wrote in a poem, “I love your body, ” as if love was for you embodied in the senses, and yet more than the senses together, an enveloping sense itself sensuous, as if all the body made sense.

Three years in jail is a good corrective for three years at Harvard.

Unfortunately, propaganda works.

Science, by itself cannot, supply us with an ethic.

When one writes, there’s the double horror of discovering not only what it is that one so fears but also the triviality of that fear.

Intellect is merely a narrow and highly specific kind of thing that we DO, but our immediacy relates us to what we naturally and essentially ARE, the actualities of our full-dimensional existence.

The struggle ends when gratitude begins.

The bed is a metaphysical piece of furniture.

I've often admired the way many Catholics who have left the priesthood, for example, have nevertheless remained sincere Catholics. They voted with their feet.

My family didn't have any money growing up. I'm just a girl from the ghetto; from Indio, California.