For Centuries, Cubas Greatest Resource Has Been

A Comma . . . Catches The Gentle Drift Of The Mind In Thought, Turning In On Itself And Back On Itself, Reversing, Redoubling, And Returning Along The Course Of Its Own Sweet River Music; While The Semicolon Brings Clauses And Thoughts Together With All The Silent Discretion Of A Hostess Arranging Guests Around Her Dinner Table.

When I Was Two Years Old, I Heard About His [dalai Lama] Flight From Tibet. Being Very Little, I Said, "oh, Good Tibetans, Bad Chinese." Those Were The Black-and-white Ways That I Thought.

Suffering Is A Privilege. It Moves Us Toward Thinking Of Essential Things And Shakes Us Out Of Complacency. Calamity Cracks You Open, Moves You To Change Your Ways.

Movement Is A Fantastic Privilege But It Ultimately Only Has Meaning If You Have A Home To Go Back To.

Silence Is Something More Than Just A Pause; It Is That Enchanted Place Where Space Is Cleared And Time Is Stayed And The Horizon Itself Expands. In Silence, We Often Say, We Can Hear Ourselves Think; But What Is Truer To Say Is That In Silence We Can Hear Ourselves Not Think....in Silence, We Might Better Say, We Can Hear Someone Else Think.