We Are Not Born To Survive. Only

We're Losing A Species Every Few Seconds. We Cannot Put Them Back. If We Change Our Mind And Say, 'oops, We Made A Mistake' - It's Too Late. This Is The World We Live With.

In The Time That I Have Been Acquainted With This Region I Have Become Increasingly Aware Of It As A Testament Of Water, The Origin And Guide Of Its Contours And Gradients And Of All The Lives - The Plants And Small Creatures, And The Culture - That Evolved Here. That Was Always Here To Be Seen, Of Course, And The Recognition Has Forced Itself, In One Form Or Other, Upon People In Every Part Of The World Who Have Been Directly Involved With The Growing Of Living Things. The Gardener Who Ignores It Is Soon Left With No Garden.

From What We Cannot Hold The Stars Are Made.

To Say What Or Where We Came From Has Nothing To Do With What Or Where We Came From. We Do Not Come From There Any More, But Only From Each Word That Proceeds Out Of The Mouth Of The Unnamed. And Yet Sometimes It Is Our Only Way Of Pointing To Who We Are.

My Cradle Was A Shoe.