Quotes from Richard Wagamese

She had a way of brushing her hair back from her face with one hand, slowly, using the tips of her fingers, closing her eyes briefly, and he was entranced by that. The sheer pleasure she took in it.

There is enough for everyone on this earth. There always was. When you gaze up at the sky on a starry night, that's what we need to remember.

The change that comes our way will come in many forms. In sights that are mysterious to our eyes, in sounds that are grating on our ears, in ways of thinking that will crash like thunder in our hearts and minds. But we must learn to ride each one of these horses of change. It is what the future asks of us and our survival depends on it. That is the spirit teaching of the Horse.

To paraphrase an old teaching, I'm learning to want nothing but to desire everything and to choose what appears. Life is easier that way, more graceful and I AM glittery—but from the inside out.

My mouth would be open with glee and I would face the picture of Jesus hung there on the wall, my salvation coming instead through wood and rubber and ice and the dream of a game. I'd stand there, arms held high in triumph, and I would not feel lonely or afraid, deserted or abandoned, but connected to something far bigger than myself. Then I'd climb back into bed and sleep until the dawn woke me and I could walk back out to the rink again.

Late in the evenings I'd walk into the trees, stride through the bush until I was wrapped in it, cocooned. The stars that pinwheeled above spun a thousand light years away. Time, mystery, departure and union were there all at once. I wondered if this was what it meant to be Indian, Ojibway. A ritual. A ceremony, ancient and simple and personal. If I could have borne it with me into the day-to-day life of the camp, things might have been different.

I felt as though nothing had changed. I felt as though the only thing I had done was quit drinking. Only the land offered me any kind of solace.

They scooped out our insides, Saul. We're not responsible for that. We're not responsible for what happened to us. None of us are." Fred said. "But our healing—that's up to us. That's what saved me. Knowing it was my game." "Could be a long game," I said. "So what if it is?" he said. "Just keep your stick on the ice and your feet moving. Time will take care of itself.

I understood then how hard years are to get a hold of, how elusive the life in them can be to capture and retell. I understood then too that time does not heal all wounds. I wanted to say it all in one brilliantly executed sentence, encompass all of it in a succinct, effortless rush. But I couldn't. I was at a loss where to begin.

Our secrets are our greatest possessions. We store them like pocket treasures, reassured by their weight, their heft, and the knowledge that though they may be smoothed by time, they bear the same stories, the same unrelenting hold, the timeless chiaroscuro they were born in. I had no knowledge of how they might alter with exposure to light.

They scooped out our insides, Saul. We're not responsible for that. We're not responsible for what happened to us. None of us are. Fred said. But our healing--that's up to us. That's what saved me. Knowing it was my game.

Then I walked out to my truck and was gone by the time I started the engine.

And me, well, I have to confess that I liked them all too, but maybe leaned more in favour of those types of stories that reached inside of you, touched something that you hadn't touched for a long time, and reminded you of the soft moments where you really came to be who you are. Spoken by Amelia One For The Road (a fictional character in Ragged Company) about the movies she'd seen.

Waubgeshig Rice, Kim Wheeler, Daniela Ginta, Blanca Schorcht and

Amid the slaps and pokes and guffaws that greeted them, I discovered that being someone you are not is often easier than living with the person you are. I became drunk with that.