Not Knowing How To Feed The Spirit,

We Insist On Permanency, On Continuity, When The Only Continuity Possible Is In Growth, In Freedom, In The Sense That The Dancers Are Free, Barely Touching As They Pass But Partners In The Same Pattern. The Only Real Security In A Relationship Lies Neither In Looking Back In Nostalgia, Nor Forward With Dread Or Anticipation, But Living In The Present And Accepting The Relationship As It Is Now.

God Often Used Bitter Experiences To Make Us Better. Gold Can Be A Helpful Servant, But A Cruel Master.

The Nicest Gifts Are Those Left, Nameless And Quiet, Unburdened With Love, Or Vanity, Or The Desire For Attention.

Not Knowing How To Feed The Spirit, We Try To Muffle Its Demands In Distraction...what Matters Is That One Be For A Time Inwardly Attentive.

I Am Very Fond Of The Oyster Shell. It Is Humble And Awkward And Ugly. It Is Slate-colored And Unsymmetrical. Its Form Is Not Primarily Beautiful But Functional. I Make Fun Of Its Knobbiness. Sometimes I Resent Its Burdens And Excrescences. But Its Tireless Adaptability And Tenacity Draw My Astonished Admiration And Sometimes Even My Tears. And It Is Comfortable In Its Familiarity, Its Homeliness, Like Old Garden Gloves When Have Molded Themselves Perfectly To The Shape Of The Hand. I Do Not Like To Put It Down. I Will Not Want To Leave It.