... Love Is Healing, Even Rootless Love.

What We Have Not Has Made Us What We Are. / ... / What We Are Not Drives Us To Consummation.

We Have To Make Myths Of Our Lives, The Point Being That If We Do, Then Every Grief Or Inexplicable Seizure By Weather, Woe, Or Work Can-if We Discipline Ourselves And Think Hard Enough-be Turned To Account, Be Made To Yield Further Insight Into What It Is To Be Alive, To Be A Human Being.

Anyone Who Is Going To Be A Writer Knows Enough At Fifteen To Write Several Novels.

In The Garden The Door Is Always Open Into The "holy" - Growth, Birth, Death. Every Flower Holds The Whole Mystery In Its Short Cycle, And In The Garden We Are Never Far Away From Death, The Fertilizing, Good, Creative Death.

Pain Can Make A Whole Winter Bright, Like Fever, Force Us To Live Deep And Hard.