You're...writing for other writers to an extent-the dead writers whose work you admire, as well as the living writers you like to read.

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.

People are good or half good or a quarter good, and it changes all the time- but even on the best day nobody's perfect.

If there is no room in the river, swim to the ocean.

How do we meditate? It is not thinking about the past or future. It starts with being present.

Never ask people about your work.

Light cannot be chained.

The triumph of the philosophy of Atheism is to free man from the nightmare of gods; it means the dissolution of the phantoms of the beyond.

Mary Poppins is magical and fun.

Everyone should try no gluten for a week! The change in your skin, physical and mental health is amazing. You won't go back!

Luxury, like a minimum wage, is a relationship; it changes as we change.