A Word Has Power In And Of

Once In His Life, A Man Ought To Concentrate His Mind Upon The Remembered Earth, I Believe. He Ought To Give Himself Up To A Particular Landscape In His Experience, To Look At It From As Many Angles As He Can, To Wonder About It, To Dwell Upon It. He Ought To Imagine That He Touches It With His Hands At Every Season And Listens To The Sounds That Are Made Upon It. He Ought To Imagine The Creatures There And All The Faintest Motions Of The Wind. He Ought To Recollect The Glare Of Noon And All The Colors Of The Dawn And Dusk.

A Word Has Power In And Of Itself. It Comes From Nothing Into Sound And Meaning; It Gives Origin To All Things.

Loneliness Is An Aspect Of The Land.

I Sometimes Think The Contemporary White American Is More Culturally Deprived Than The Indian.

He Used Both Hands When He Made The Bear. Imagine A Bear Proceeding From The Hands Of God.