I Think A Lot Of Us Are

For Us To Maintain Our Way Of Living, We Must Tell Lies To Each Other And Especially To Ourselves. The Lies Are Necessary Because, Without Them, Many Deplorable Acts Would Become Impossibilities.

It's No Wonder We Don't Defend The Land Where We Live. We Don't Live Here. We Live In Television Programs And Movies And Books And With Celebrities And In Heaven And By Rules And Laws And Abstractions Created By People Far Away And We Live Anywhere And Everywhere Except In Our Particular Bodies On This Particular Land At This Particular Moment In These Particular Circumstances.

All Writers Are Propagandists.

When We Realize The Degree Of Agency We Actually Do Have, We No Longer Have To "hope" At All. We Simply Do The Work.

There Is A Language Older By Far And Deeper Than Words. It Is The Language Of Bodies, Of Body On Body, Wind On Snow, Rain On Trees, Wave On Stone. It Is The Language Of Dream, Gesture, Symbol, Memory. We Have Forgotten This Language. We Do Not Even Remember That It Exists.