Gratitude to the Great Sky who holds billions of stars - and goes yet beyond that - beyond all powers, and thoughts and yet is within us - Grandfather Space. The Mind is his Wife

Nature is not a place to visit. It is home.

Walking is the great adventure, the first meditation, a practice of heartiness and soul primary to humankind. Walking is the exact balance beween spirit and humility.

Find your place on the planet. Dig in, and take responsibility from there.

Wildness It is perennially within us, dormant as a hard-shelled seed, awaiting the fire or flood that awakes it again.

Range after range of mountains. Year after year after year. I am still in love.

Nature is orderly. That which appears to be chaotic in nature is only a more complex kind of order.

When the mind is exhausted of images, it invents its own.

I hold the most archaic values on earth ... the fertility of the soul, the magic of the animals, the power-vision in solitude.... the love and ecstasy of the dance, the common work of the tribe.

The lessons we learn from the wild become the etiquette of freedom.

Three-fourths of philosophy and literature is the talk of people trying to convince themselves that they really like the cage they were tricked into entering.

I am nothing but a ripped fabric stitched together by God's grace.

The obvious can sometimes be illuminating when perceived in an unhabitual way.

Even that. What is the point in living forever, if it is not with the woman I love?

Today, we jump into this globalization of the economy and the internet age.

The woman you buy takes a great deal of money. The woman who gives herself to you takes all your money.

In the 1960s, if you were a blue collar worker or uneducated, and you had an injury on the job, the company basically dismissed you.

I think the deeper truth is that the Kyoto Protocols will not be followed by anyone really and that, in effect, nothing will be done to reduce carbon dioxide and other greenhouse emissions.

When someone close to you dies, move seats.

If anything is leaking, I try to plug the hole.

I don't want to because boys don't write poetry. Girls do.