Quotes About Renewal

Il fango fermo della vita ora è polvere che vola verso di me.

Prayer does not use up artificial energy, doesn't burn up any fossil fuel, doesn't pollute. Neither does song, neither does love, neither does the dance.

Change always involves a dark night when everything falls apart. Yet if this period of dissolution is used to create new meaning, then chaos ends and new order emerges.

Good will starts out fat and sweet as tub butter and turns slowly rancid. It must be made again daily if we want it fresh.

The earth's lungs, coated in green ooze and thaw, breathed out blossom-scent and sour rot and fungus-must, wet and warm and aware, where before the air had been cold and blind, remote as the moon.

When Grinnell approached her, she cried quietly into her hands but let him lead her to the water, where she washed and changed into the calico dress an officer's wife had sent from the fort. Now, free of face paint and hair dye, and wearing Anglo garb, she was ready — or at least dressed — for her return.

When it's in a book I don't think it'll hurt any more ...exist any more. One of the things writing does is wipe things out. Replace them.

When the past is recaptured by the imagination, breath is put back into life.

I am a black woman tall as a cypress strong beyond all definition still defying place and time and circumstance assailed impervious indestructible Look on me and be renewed

We routinely replace damanged parts of ourselves with new ones that are, arguably, more resilient, more able to handle challenges. As long as we avoid the trap of growing our skin so thick that nothing gets through, getting bruised can only boost our ability to cope with whatever life throws at us.

One way to understand the matter is to recognize that when we mourn, we not only grieve the vanishing of treasured objects, but also those versions of ourselves that thrived within a particular (now lost) relational dynamic. In this manner, loss compels us to discard outmoded facets of the self. While this may give rise to bouts of regret and nostalgia, in the final analysis it serves to replenish the self in that it engenders new inner intensities and unforeseen psychic possibilities.

Death is a butterfly in it's cocoon waiting to fly . . .

It is through beauty, poetry and visionary power that the world will be renewed.

One day I promised God that if he would give me my voice back I would never smoke again. I got three octaves back after quitting.

The world was furred with late spring snow. It was the soft, thick stuff that excites you unless you are driving or half dead, packing snow already falling in caterpillars off the greening branches.

Roses don't die, they return to the light.

We are made from clay, water, sun, air, and dream, and we feed on clay, water, air, sun, and dream. We are rains, snows, suns, we are seasons without the right to go back.

Every ending is a new beginning. Through the grace of God, we can always start again. (Page 120.)

Certein bodies... become luminous when heated. Their luminosity disappears after some time, but the capacity of becoming luminous afresh through heat is restored to them by the action of a spark, and also by the action of radium.

When you have grown old, newness always comes from the inside.

Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup.

Jesus, Food of strong souls, strengthen me, purify me, make me godlike

What does this patch-sewing mean you ask? Eating and drinking. The heavy cloak of the body is always getting torn. You patch it with food and other ego-satisfactions.

Feed him ye must, whose food fills you. And that this pleasure is like raine, Not sent ye for to drowne your paine, But for to make it spring againe.