Children are born with imaginations in mint condition, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. Then life corrects for grandiosity.
It seemed there was no end at all to the lies a person could tell, once she got started.
Away from the bright motion of the party, she carried her sadness like a dark stone clenched in her palm.
...no one has ever doubted you would die for those you love ... the question then becomes would you live?
She had died at age twelve, and by now she was nothing but the memory of love-- nothing, now, but bones.
Norah watched him, serious and utterly absorbed in his task, overcome by the simple fact of his existence.
After all these years, I feel so free. Who knows where I might fly?
Also at times, on the surface of streams, Water?bubbles form And grow and burst And have no meaning at all Except that they’re water?bubbles Growing and bursting.
Yes, this is what my senses alone have learned:— Things don’t have significance: they only have existence. Things are the only hidden meaning of things.
The river of my village doesn’t make you think about anything. When you’re at its bank you’re only at its bank.
I’m a keeper of flocks. The flock is my thoughts And my thoughts are all sensations. I think with my eyes and with my ears And with my hands and feet And with my nose and mouth. Thinking about a flower is seeing and smelling it And eating a piece o...
Basker possesses three kinds of bite: a snap, a nip, and then something like a buzz saw and an angle grinder mounted on a bear trap.
Then she had been a fiancee, a young wife, and a mother, and she had discovered that these words were far too small ever to contain the experience.
He'd kept this silence because his own secrets were darker, more hidden, and because he believed that his secrets had created hers.
You can't stop time. You can't capture light. You can only turn your face up and let it rain down.
Each letter has a shape, she told them, one shape in the world and no other, and it is your responsibility to make it perfect.
It’s stranger than every strangeness And the dreams of all the poets And the thoughts of all the philosophers, That things are really what they seem to be And there’s nothing to understand.
A row of trees far away, there on the hillside. But what is it, a row of trees? It’s just trees. Row and the plural trees aren’t things, they’re names.
If they want me to have mysticism, okay, I’ve got it. I’m a mystic, but only in my body, My soul is simple and doesn’t think.
Even so, I’m somebody. I’m the Discoverer of Nature. I’m the Argonaut of true sensations. I bring a new Universe to the Universe Because I bring the Universe to itself.
That lady has a piano. It’s nice, but it’s not the running of rivers Or the murmuring trees make .. Who needs a piano? It’s better to have ears And love Nature.