Quotes from Linda Hogan

We are looking for a tongue that speaks with reverence for life, searching for an ecology of mind. Without it, we have no home, no place of our own within the creation. It is not only the vocabulary of science we desire. We want a language of that different yield. A yield rich as the harvests of the earth, a yield that returns us to our own sacredness, to a self-love and resort that will carry out to others.

As for me, I have a choice between honoring that dark life I've seen so many years moving in the junipers, or of walking away and going on with my own human busyness. There is always that choice for humans.

Walking. I am listening to a deeper way. Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands.

Mystery is part of each life, and maybe it is healthier to uphold it than to spend a lifetime in search of half-made answers.

Poetry has its own laws speaking for the life of the planet. It is a language that wants to bring back together what the other words have torn apart.

We make art out of our loss.

There are so many beginnings.

The real ceremony begins where the formal one ends, when we take up a new way, our minds and hearts filled with the vision of earth that holds us within it, in compassionate relationship to and with our world.

There were times when the light of the moon had gone out and she felt a great loneliness. It wasn't for herself. It was for what had happened to the grasses of their land, their waters, not just the massacre there, the slavery, but the killing of the ocean.

I saw her future in my body and face, and her past was alive in me.

Now they were merely trying to fill themselves up but not with the heart, not the soul. They'd lost both those along the way...

Oblivion, she thought. That was the world she lived in. It was what they should name some countries, towns, and places.

She was an anchor but at least now she knew it had an end, a stopping place. It hit bottom. She could fall no deeper.

Remembering place is significant, and that includes each visitor to a place, insect, plant, animal, or the passing shadow of a cloud in golden sunlight.

Our flesh has never been a boundary for the human being. We only reach out from there to occupy the space around us. Even more significantly, it occupies us.

Remembering, in Spanish, means to pass something through the heart again, and now all the years are going through his heart again as he tries to turn away from the ocean. But he hears it and he knows it is out there. Some sleepless nights he goes out. But this night in his sleep he says, "Oh, look at all those beautiful life rafts.

She didn't forgive him, not then. Not really until years later when she realized how men were so influenced by their peers and governments. This was something Ruth, a woman who could stand alone in the world, would never understand.

A bird killed in the name of human power is in truth a loss of power from the world, not an addition to it.

This is what happens to fire. It consumes itself.

the important question is not whether all rocks are alive but whether specific humans relate appropriately (respectfully) with specific rocks

He wakes up and he is not a halfhearted man and he can't remember why he wakes this way, except that he hears the sound of birds and it is as if behind the human world something else is taking place. The

The people her own age had not ever recovered from the war. The older people are still in the pain of history. Some say it is over, the A'atsika way. It isn't, Ruth wanted to tell the world that she hangs by her strength. Alone. Don't be fooled. This is just America happening to us again. She would like to keep them from ruining themselves altogether.

Now our bones are revealed like truth.

Stories are for people what water is for plants.