The Opposite Of Love Is Not Hate;

The Land Retains An Identity Of Its Own, Still Deeper And More Subtle Than We Can Know. Our Obligation Toward It Then Becomes Simple: To Approach With An Uncalculating Mind, With An Attitude Of Regard...be Alert For Its Openings, For That Moment When Something Sacred Reveals Itself Within The Mundane, And You Know The Land Knows You Are There.

You Continue To Live Them Out, Making Your Life A Worthy Expression Of Leaning Into The Light.

To Put Your Hands In A River Is To Feel The Chords That Bind The Earth Together.

Sometimes A Person Needs A Story More Than Food To Stay Alive.

You Can't Learn Anything From Saguaro Cactus, From Ocotillo. They Are Just Passing Through; Their Roots, Their Much Heralded Dormancy In The Dry Season, These Are Only Illusions Of Permanence. They Know Even Less Than You Do.