There was nothing to do but wait. It is always like this for naturalists, and for poets--the long hours of travel and preparation, and then the longer hours of waiting. All for that one electric, pulse-revving vision when the universe suddenly declares itself.
It's essential to tailor rehab to what impassions someone. The brain gradually learns by riveting its attention-through endless repetitions.
We're losing biodiversity globally at an alarming rate, and we need a cornucopia of different plants and animals, for the planet's health and our own.
Life becomes a lot simpler for a creative person when he or she finds the routine that works best. ... get in the habit of going through the routine every day, and on some of those days, you're going to be lucky and have done some good work. ... Go to your study, close the door, invent your confidence.
The daftest logic brings such sweet unrest.
Culture is what people invent when they have lost nature.
I believe consciousness is brazenly physical, a raucous mirage the brain creates to help us survive.
Disassociating, mindfulness, transcendence-whatever the label-it's a sort of loophole in our contract with reality, a form of self-rescue.
Humans are the most successful invasives of all time.
We're dabbling in eugenics all the time, breeding ideal crops to replace less aesthetic or nutritious or hardy varieties; leveling forests to graze cattle or erect shopping malls and condos; planting groves of a few familiar trees that homeowners and industries prefer.
I'm sure civilizations will still evolve through play, or rather as play, since that seems to be a fundamental mechanism of our humanity.
What would dawn have been like, had you awakened? It would have sung through your bones. All I can do this morning is let it sing through mine.
Home is where the heart is, we say, rubbing the flint of one abstraction against another.
So often loneliness comes from being out of touch with parts of oneself. We go searching for those parts in other people, but there's a difference between feeling separate from others and separate from oneself.
Variety is the pledge that matter makes to living things.
Like love, travel makes you innocent again.
We live on the leash of our senses.
poetry had everything to teach me about life.
Because poets feel what we're afraid to feel, venture where we're reluctant to go, we learn from their journeys without taking the same dramatic risks.
As fleeting emotions stalk it, a face can leak fear or the guilt of a forming lie.
A life like an intricately woven basket, frayed, worn, broken, unraveled, reworked, reknit from many of its original pieces... Life can survive in the constant shadow of illness, and even rise to moments of rampant joy, but the shadow remains, and one has to make space for it.
Violets smell like burnt sugar cubes that have been dipped in lemon and velvet.
Writing is my form of celebration and prayer.
Hurricane season brings a humbling reminder that, despite our technologies, most of nature remains unpredictable.
Habitats keep evolving new pageants of species, and we shouldn't interfere.
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