Even foolery is dangerous,” said Jasper, “in the hands of a fool.
I thought also of another thing between us. Call it trust... That is one of its names. It is a very great thing. Though each of us alone is weak, having that we are strong, stronger than the powers of the dark.
Sso, when I was born there actually were only men. People were men. They all had one pronoun, his pronoun; so that’s who I am. I am the generic he as in: ’if anybody needs an abortion he will have to go to another state.
Can you imagine any president, now, asking the American people... to refrain from meat now and then to provide more grain to programs and food banks for the 20,000,000 Americans living in “extreme poverty”... right now? Or, actually, asking us to do without anything for any reason? Something has changed.
Life loves to know itself, out to its furthest limits; to embrace complexity is its delight. Our difference is our beauty.
I have watched my country accept, mostly quite complacently, along with a lower living standard for more and more people, a lower moral standard. A moral standard based on advertising.
If you want danger, it’s dangerous,’ he said, ’and if you like hope, it’s hopeful.
Hate eats the hater,” she quoted from a familiar text of the Telling.
It’s a good place for a child, the woods. You don’t learn much about people, but you learn silence. Patience. And that there’s nothing much to fear in the wilderness – less than there is on a farm or in the city.
Seen rightly, any situation, even a chaos or a trap would come clear and lead of itself to its one proper outcome: for there is in the long run no disharmony, only misunderstanding, no chance or mischance but only the ignorant eye.
There are a whole lot of ways to be perfect, and not one of them is attained through punishment.
Indifference to what words actually say; willingness to accept a vapid truism as a useful, even revelatory concept; carelessness about where a supposed quotation comes from – that’s all part of what I like least about the Internet. A “blah blah blah, who cares, information is what I want it to be” attitude – a lazy-mindedness that degrades both language and thought.
Home isn’t Mom and Dad and Sis and Bud. Home isn’t where they have to let you in. It’s not a place at all. Home is imaginary.
She had never been herself with other people, had always felt a falsity in her relationships with them; she had never known who she was at all, except sometimes for a moment in meditation, when her I am became It is, and she breathed the stars.
Words are my matter. I have chipped one stone for thirty years and still it is not done, that image of the thing I cannot see. I cannot finish it and set it free, transformed to energy.
If the rowan’s roots are shallow, it bears no crown.
You read at your pace, your own speed, not the ceaseless, incoherent, gabbling, shouting rush of the media. You take in what you can and want to take in, not what they shove at you fast and hard and loud in order to overwhelm and control you.
What goes too long unchanged destroys itself. The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so lives.
The world’s vast and strange, Hara, but no vaster and no stranger than our minds are.
I don’t know what ‘human nature’ is. Maybe leaving descriptions of what we wipe out is part of human nature.