He Used Both Hands When He Made

The Highest Human Purpose Is Always To Reinvent And Celebrate The Sacred.

We Are What We Imagine. Our Very Existence Consists In Our Imagination Of Ourselves. Our Best Destiny Is To Imagine, At Least, Completely, Who And What, And That We Are. The Greatest Tragedy That Can Befall Us Is To Go Unimagined.

Loneliness Is An Aspect Of The Land.

The Character Of The Landscape Changes From Hour To Hour, Day To Day, Season To Season. Nothing Of The Earth Can Be Taken For Granted; You Feel That Creation Is Going On In Your Sight. You See Things In The High Air That You Do Not See Farther Down In The Lowlands. In The High Country All Objects Bear Upon You, And You Touch Hard Upon The Earth. From My Home I Can See The Huge, Billowing Clouds; They Draw Close Upon Me And Merge With My Life.

Writing Engenders In Us Certain Attitudes Toward Language. It Encourages Us To Take Words For Granted. Writing Has Enabled Us To Store Vast Quantities Of Words Indefinitely. This Is Advantageous On The One Hand But Dangerous On The Other. The Result Is That We Have Developed A Kind Of False Security Where Language Is Concerned, And Our Sensitivity To Language Has Deteriorated. And We Have Become In Proportion Insensitive To Silence.