We evolved as creatures knitted into the fabric of nature, and without its intimate truths, we can find ourselves unraveling.
There are well-dressed foolish ideas just as there are well-dressed fools.
Our relationship with nature has changed radically, irreversibly, but by no means all for the bad. Our new epoch is laced with invention. Our mistakes are legion, but our talent is immeasurable.
Writing is my form of celebration and prayer.
In the early years of the Uprising, we survived on one meal a day of horse meat and soup, but by the end we ate only dried peas, dogs, cats and birds.
Complexity excites the mind, and order rewards it. In the garden, one finds both, including vanishingly small orders too complex to spot, and orders so vast the mind struggles to embrace them.
Mystery causes a mental itch, which the brain tries to soothe with the balm of reasonable talk.
Love, like truth, is the unassailable defense.
What an odd, ruminating, noisy, self-interrupting conversation we conduct with ourselves from birth to death.
I’m an Earth ecstatic, and my creed is simple: All life is sacred, life loves life, and we are capable of improving our behavior toward one another. As basic as that is, for me it’s also tonic and deeply spiritual, glorifying the smallest life-form and embracing the most distant stars.
Humans are the most successful invasives of all time.
I watched her face switch among the radio stations of memory.
Of all the errands life seems to be running, of all the mysteries that enchant us, love is my favorite.
Couples are jigsaw puzzles that hang together by touching in just enough points. They’re never total fits or misfits. In time, a pair invents its own commonwealth, complete with anthems, rituals, and lingos-a cult of two with fallible gods.
The daftest logic brings such sweet unrest.
After all, coffee is bitter, a flavor from the forbidden and dangerous realm.
Violets smell like burnt sugar cubes that have been dipped in lemon and velvet.
Fear is danger to your body, but disgust is danger to your soul.
Couples are jigsaw puzzles that hang together by touching in just enough points.
Which is crueler, an old man’s lost memories of a life lived, or a young man’s lost memories of the life he meant to live?