The health of our waters is the principle measure of how we live on the land.
A river seems a magic thing. A magic, moving, living part of the very earth itself.
I have never seen a river that I could not love. Moving water... has a fascinating vitality. It has power and grace and associations. It has a thousand colors and a thousand shapes, yet it follows laws so definite that the tiniest streamlet is an exact replica of a great river.
The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.
We forget that the water cycle and the life cycle are one.
Water, thou hast no taste, no color, no odor; canst not be defined, art relished while ever mysterious. Not necessary to life, but rather life itself, thou fillest us with a gratification that exceeds the delight of the senses.
Water is the most critical resource issue of our lifetime and our children's lifetime. The health of our waters is the principal measure of how we live on the land.
When the well is dry, we know the worth of water.
If you gave me several million years, there would be nothing that did not grow in beauty if it were surrounded by water.
To put your hands in a river is to feel the chords that bind the earth together.
When you put your hand in a flowing stream, you touch the last that has gone before and the first of what is still to come.
To trace the history of a river or a raindrop is also to trace the history of the soul, the history of the mind descending and arising in the body. In both, we constantly seek and stumble upon divinity, which like feeding the lake, and the spring becoming a waterfall, feeds, spills, falls, and feeds itself all over again.
Anything else you're interested in is not going to happen if you can't breathe the air and drink the water. Don't sit this one out. Do something. You are by accident of fate alive at an absolutely critical moment in the history of our planet.
We let a river shower its banks with a spirit that invades the people living there, and we protect that river, knowing that without its blessings the people have no source of soul.
To trace the history of a river . . . is to trace the history of the soul, the history of the mind descending and arising in the body.
All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was.
Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water.
It is life, I think, to watch the water. A man can learn so many things.
or simply:
