“I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain There’s more than one answer to these questions pointing me in a crooked line And the less I seek my source for some definitive The closer I am to fine.”

“The less I seek my source for some definitive, the closer I am to fine.”

“The less I seek my source for some definitive, the closer I am to fine”

“I was walking late one night along a tree-lined path; a chestnut fell at my feet. The noise it made as it burst, the resonance it provoked in me, and an upheaval out of all proportion to this insignificant event thrust me into miracle, into the rapture of the definitive, as if there were no more questions—only answers. I was drunk on a thousand unexpected discoveries, none of which I could make use of. … This is how I nearly reached the Supreme. But instead I went on with my walk.”

“And every night before I went to bed, my mother would stroke my forehead, pat the dog who was cuddled in the crook of my knees, and ask, ‘Rikki, what are you thankful for today?’ And each night I would have to give that question some thought and find an answer.”

“I was so in love I went into my room and drank half a bottle of Robitussin.”