We Still And Always Want Waking.

You Do What You Do Out Of Your Private Love Of The Thing Itself.

Your Work Is To Keep Cranking The Flywheel That Turns The Gears That Spin The Belt In The Engine Of Belief That Keeps You And Your Desk In Midair.

If You're Going To Publish A Book, You Probably Are Going To Make A Fool Of Yourself.

We Wake, If We Ever Wake At All, To Mystery, Rumors Of Death, Beauty, Violence.

I Had Been My Whole Life A Bell, And Never Knew It Until At That Moment I Was Lifted And Struck.