In Western Civilization, Our Elders Are Books.

Wherever Man Exists, He Finds The Need To Redesign, To Recreate The World. A More Beautiful World, Purer, Sweeter Smelling And More Colorful. A Garden Is Probably The Spot Where The Hopes For Civilization Are Best Captured. In Fact, Man Defines Himself By His Garden. My Grandmother Standing Wordless Fifteen Minutes Between Rows Of Loganberries, Clippers Poised In Her Hand.

Revolutionary Consciousness Is To Be Found Among The Most Ruthlessly Exploited Masses: Animals, Trees, Water, Air, Grasses

Wilderness Is A Place Where The Wild Potential Is Fully Expressed, A Diversity Of Living And Nonliving Beings Flourishing According To Their Own Sorts Of Order. In Ecology We Speak Of "wild Systems." When An Ecosystem Is Fully Functioning, All The Members Are Present At The Assembly. To Speak Of Wilderness Is To Speak Of Wholeness. Human Beings Came Out Of That Wholeness, And To Consider The Possibility Of Reactivating Membership In The Assembly Of All Beings Is In No Way Regressive.

A Great Poet Does Not Express His Or Her Self; He Expresses All Of Our Selves.

Burning The Small Dead Branches Broke From Beneath Thick Spreading Whitebark Pine. A Hundred Summers Snowmelt Rock And Air Hiss In A Twisted Bough.