Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Wake the happy words.
How terrible the need for God.
The darkness has it's own light.
In the kingdom of bang and blab.
By daily dying, I have come to be.
Being, not doing, is my first joy.
And I rejoiced in being what I was.
I came to love, I came into my own.
A mind too active is no mind at all.
I learn by going where I have to go.
The soul has many motions, body one.
May my silences become more accurate.
Be sure that whatever you are is you.
(I measure time by how a body sways.)
Live in a perpetual great astonishment.
What falls away is always. And is near.
In a dark time, the mind begins to see.
I teach my sighs to lengthen into songs.
Time marks us while we are marking time.
I have gone into the waste lonely places
Love is not love until love's vulnerable.
Love begets love. This torment is my joy.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
God bless the roots! Body and soul are one.
Art is our defense against hysteria and death.
Pain wanders through my bones like a lost fire
Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light.
The visible exhausts me. I am dissolved in shadow.
The poet: would rather eat a heart than a hambone.
Teach as an old fishing guide takes out a beginner.
Civilization is over-rated, but there isn't much else.
I long for the imperishable quiet at the heart of form.
Should we say the self, once perceived, becomes the soul?
Reason? That dreary shed, that hutch for grubby schoolboys.
Those who are willing to be vulnerable move among mysteries.
What we need is more people who specialize in the impossible.
Fear was my father, Father Fear. His look drained the stones.
You must believe a poem is a holy thing, a good poem, that is.
What is madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance?
What is madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance.
I wish I could find an event that meant as much as simple seeing.
The damage of teaching: the constant contact with the undeveloped.
What's important? That which is dug out of books, or out of the guts?
And I walked, I walked through the light air; I moved with the morning.
Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt keeps breathing a small breath.
I lose and find myself in the long water. I am gathered together once more.
All lovers live by longing, and endure: Summon a vision and declare it pure.
How body from spirit slowly does unwind, until we are pure spirit at the end.
Too much reality can be a dazzle, a surfeit;Too close immediacy an exhaustion
Over every mountain there is a path, although it may not be seen from the valley.