“The cicadas, as if they were wired on the same circuit, suddenly filled the garden with a loud burst of celebration.”

“The wind sounds like a silver wire,And from beyond the noon a fireIs pour'd upon the hills, and nigherThe skies stoop down in their desire;And, isled in sudden seas of light,My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight,Bursts into blossom in his sight.”

“And suddenly the world was filled with wooden faces and flat voices - and, you were alone.”

“Mama used to tell us a story about a cicada sitting high in a tree. It chirps and drinks in dew, oblivious to the praying mantis behind it. The mantis arches up its front leg to stab the cicada, but it doesn't know an oriole perches behind it. The bird stretches out its neck to snap up the mantis for a midday meal, but its unaware of the boy who's come into the garden with a net. Three creatures—the cicada, the mantis and the oriole—all coveted gains without being aware of the greater and inescapable danger that was coming.”

“The battlefields of life were first meadows and gardens. We made them into battlefields, and by the same power, we must release the dark spell, so they are meadows and gardens once again.”

“Personally, I always wondered about authors and celebrities who loudly declared there was no God. It was usually when they were healthy and popular and being listened to by crowds. What happens, I wondered, in the quiet moments before death? By then, they have lost the stage, the world has moved on. If suddenly, in their last gasping moments, through fear, a vision, a late enlightenment, they change their minds about God, who would know?”