Anything Is Bearable If You Can Make

They Have Assumed The Names And Gestures Of Their Enemies, But Have Held On To Their Own, Secret Souls; And In This There Is A Resistance And An Overcoming, A Long Outwaiting.

Although My Grandmother Lived Out Her Long Life In The Shadow Of Rainy Mountian, The Immense Landscape Of The Continental Interior Lay Like Memory In Her Blood

To Encounter The Sacred Is To Be Alive At The Deepest Center Of Human Existence. Sacred Places Are The Truest Definitions Of The Earth; They Stand For The Earth Immediately And Forever; They Are Its Flags And Shields. If You Would Know The Earth For What It Really Is, Learn It Through Its Sacred Places. At Devil’s Tower Or Canyon De Chelly Or The Cahokia Mounds, You Touch The Pulse Of The Living Planet; You Feel Its Breath Upon You. You Become One With A Spirit That Pervades Geologic Time And Space.

I Sometimes Think The Contemporary White American Is More Culturally Deprived Than The Indian.

There Is A Great Good In Returning To A Landscape That Has Had Extraordinary Meaning In One's Life. It Happens That We Return To Such Places In Our Minds Irresistibly. There Are Certain Villages And Towns, Mountains And Plains That, Having Seen Them Walked In Them Lived In Them Even For A Day, We Keep Forever In The Mind's Eye. They Become Indispensable To Our Well-being; They Define Us, And We Say, I Am Who I Am Because I Have Been There, Or There.