“I waited just to see you at that kind of peace, I wanted to be beside you, I wanted you to wake up slowly or startle, or just half awaken and turn over or murmur my name. I wanted to watch you forever, or sleep beside you forever, or sleep forever while you woke and watched me, something forever anyway. I wanted to kiss you, rumple your hair, rest three fingertips on your hip bone warm and smooth, wake you that way or hush you back to sleep.” WayKindWantedTurnsThreeNamesSleepHalfWatchesForeverHairKissingWake UpWarmBonesHipsSmoothFingertipsHushBeside YouWakes You Author:Daniel Handler
“It's strange how deserts turn us into believers. I believe in walking in a landscape of mirages, because you learn humility. I believe in living in a land of little water because life is drawn together. And I believe in the gathering of bones as a testament to spirits that have moved on. If the desert is holy, it is because it is a forgotten place that allows us to remember the sacred. Perhaps that is why every pilgrimage to the desert is a pilgrimage to the self.” IfsBelieveLittlesSelfTogetherRememberLife IsSpiritTurnsI BelieveWaterLandHumilityStrangeWalkingHolySacredMovedForgottenI Believe InBonesBelieverDesertLandscapeTestamentGatheringPilgrimageMoved OnMiragesDrawn Together Book:Red: passion and patience in the desert Source: Red: passion and patience in the desert
“Surely, God could have caused birds to fly with their bones made of solid gold, with their veins full of quicksilver, with their flesh heavier than lead, and with their wings exceedingly small. He did not, and that ought to show something. It is only in order to shield your ignorance that you put the Lord at every turn to the refuge of a miracle.” MadeShowsOrderTurnsLordIgnoranceOughtBirdGoldMiracleWingsBonesFleshRefugeVeinsShields Author:Galileo Galilei
“Our bodies are garbage heaps: we collect experience, and from the decomposition of the thrown-out eggshells, spinach leaves, coffee grinds, and old steak bones out of our minds come nitrogen, heat, and very fertile soil. Out of this fertile soil bloom our poems and stories. But this does not come all at once. It takes time. Continue to turn over and over the organic details of your life until some of them fall through the garbage of discursive thoughts to the solid ground of black soil.” MindDoeStoriesBodyTurnsFallBlackDetailsBonesCoffeeHeatSoilThrownTake TimeGarbageGrindFertileSteakIt Takes TimeNitrogenSpinachFertile SoilEggshellsDecomposition Author:Natalie Goldberg
“One of the first papers I wrote at the University of Wisconsin, in 1977, was on stem cells. I realized that if I changed the environment that these cells were in, I could turn the cells into bone, and if I changed the environment a bit more, they would form fat cells.” IfsFirstsFormTurnsBitsEnvironmentChangedPaperUniversityBonesI RealizedFatsCellsStemPapersWisconsinStem CellWisconsin Weather Author:Bruce H. Lipton