No, not under the vault of another sky, not under the shelter of other wings. I was with my people then, there where my people were doomed to be.

My shadow serves as the friend I crave

You will hear thunder and remember me, and think: she wanted storms.

Italy is a dream that keeps returning for the rest of your life.

All has been looted, betrayed, sold; black death's wing flashed ahead.

It is unbearably painful for the soul to love silently.

Sunset in the ethereal waves: I cannot tell if the day is ending, or the world, or if the secret of secrets is inside me again.

You will hear thunder and remember me, And think: she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.

Forgive me, that I manage badly, Manage badly but live gloriously, That I leave traces of myself in my songs, That I appeared to you in waking dreams.

Call me a sinner, Mock me maliciously: I was your insomnia, I was your grief.

Real tenderness can't be confused, It's quiet and can't be heard.

I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.

You tell your brother he's gonna pay for that car in silver.

The first thing I do when I start my day is, I get down on my hands and knees and give thanks to God. Whenever I go outside of my house, the first thing I do is stop at the church.

My dream is to reform the legal system over the next 20 years.

My mother…was perfectly horrified when I began shooting and tried to keep me in school, but I would run away and go quail shooting in the woods or trim my dresses with wreaths of wildflowers.

We got results that would not have been possible without a negotiating partner like Joe Biden.

In practicing meditation, we're not trying to live up to some kind of ideal -- quite the opposite. We're just being with our experience, whatever it is.

I have never been against new art as such; some of it is good, much is crap, most is somewhere in between.

Relax, she’s not really converting. (Acheron) Look at her! She’s not exactly baking cookies! (Xypher)

That desire to reach further is also where I ended my memoir, in 1994 in California, perhaps ironically, looking out to the Pacific and back to Asia, toward the not-yet-written.