I woke in bits, like all children, piecemeal over the years. I
discovered myself and the world, and forgot them, and discovered them
again. I woke at intervals until ... the intervals of waking tipped the
scales, and I was more often awake than not. I noticed this process of
waking, and predicted with terrifying logic that one of these years not
far away I would be awake continuously and never slip back and never be
free of myself again.                                   --Annie Dillard


in the blackness of the pine
in the paleness of the moon ...
you offer me arms to take up
you offer me arms to wake up in
and we'll put pain away
sing the heavens to sleep
ah, let's not talk now                                  --Jane Siberry


The world pours in and overflows the heart
until speech is useless ...                             --Kim Stanley Robinson


To each is given its moment in the blaze, its spark to be surrendered to
another when it is sent, so that the blaze may go on.  None may deny its
spark to the general blaze and live forever.  Each is sent to another
someday.  You are sent; you are on your way.  I am sent.  To the wolf or
the lion or the vulture or the grasses, I am sent.  My death is the life
of another, and I will stand again in the windswept grasses and look
through the eyes of the fox and take the air with the eagle and run in
the track of the deer.                                 --Daniel Quinn


If you see a man who's broken
pick him up and carry him
If you see a woman who's broken
pull her all into your arms
Cause we don't know where we come from
We don't know what we are                               --Laurie Anderson


Art is both love and friendship and understanding: the desire to give.
It is not charity, which is the giving of things.  It is more than
kindness, which is the giving of self.  It is both the taking and giving
of beauty, the turning out to the light the inner folds of the awareness
of the spirit.  It is the recreation on another plane of the realities
of the world; the tragic and wonderful realistic of earth and humans,
and of all the interrelations of these.                --Ansel Adams



And the restless endless rivers swept by, whispering in the rain, little
warm tin worlds, whirring through the night at one mile every minute,
carring the loved and unloved, the broken and the undefeated, carrying
hate, guile, boredom, exhaustion, pain, joy, laughter, bitterness,
frenzy, greed, pride and desire.  Neon blinked.  The rain came down.
The world was moving.  All the minutes had been counted.
							--John D. Macdonald


I just don't care what happens next
It looks like freedom but it feels like death
It's something in between, I guess
It's closing time.                                      --Leonard Cohen


Live as if you were living for the second time
and had acted as wrongly the first time
as you are about to act now.                            --Victor Frankl