“Song for the Puberty Rite of a Girl Named Cowaka:A poor man takes the songs in his hand And drops them near the place where the sun sets. See, Cowaka, run to them and take them in your hand, And place them under the sunset.”

“When they see beyond the sky,When they know beyond the mind,When they hear the song of the Burning Light;Take these Gifts of My Outstretched Hand,Weave them together.I shall come.”

“Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose their place of rest, and Providence their guide: They hand in hand with wand'ring steps and slow, through Eden took their solitary way.”

“People take on the shapes of the songs and the stories that surround them, especially if they don't have their own song.”

“If you've ever wondered where the good songs goAfter they've had their day,You'll be glad to meet a man I know,Wrinkled old and gray.He collects the tunes that time has thrown aside—Puts them under lock and key;For a penny he is glad to set them free.”

“Don't place your dreams in the hands of those whom can destroy them.”