“don't wait for the man standing in the snowto cut off his arm help him now”

“it isn't that we're alone or not alonewhose voice do you want mine? yours?”

“that stone Buddha deserves all the birdshit it getsI wave my skinny arms like a tall flower in the wind”

“I'd love to give you somethingbut what would help?”

“Hearing a crow with no mouthCry in the deepDarkness of the night,I feel a longing forMy father before he was born.”

“clouds very high looknot one word helped them get up there”

“don't wait for the man standing in the snowto cut off his arm help him now”

“it isn't that we're alone or not alonewhose voice do you want mine? yours?”

“that stone Buddha deserves all the birdshit it getsI wave my skinny arms like a tall flower in the wind”

“Im not a woman you bring home to Mother, pick out china patterns with, or Mary forefend, breed. Ive seen a chunk of the universe, true, but theres still so much more to see. I doubt Ill ever cure t...”

“My hope, my heaven, my trust must be,My gentle guide, in following thee.”

“Amory took to writing poetry on spring afternoons, in the gardens of the big estates near Princeton, while swans made effective atmosphere in the artificial pools, and slow clouds sailed harmonious...”

“Not being tense but ready.Not thinking but not dreaming.Not being set but flexible.Liberation from the uneasy sense of confinement.It is being wholly and quietly alive, aware and alert, ready for w...”

“...it's like this. Sometimes, when you've a very long street ahead of you, you think how terribly long it is and feel sure you'll never get it swept. And then you start to hurry. You work faster an...”

“It's like you took a bottle of ink and you threw it at a wall. Smash! And all that ink spread. And in the middle, it's dense, isn't it? And as it gets out on the edge, the little droplets get finer...”