“ Violence send deep roots into the heart, it has no seasons, it is always ripe, evergreen. ”
I wanted to become the seeker, the aroused and passionate explorer, and it was better to go at it knowing nothing at all, always choosing the unmarked bottle, always choosing your own unproven method, armed with nothing but faith and a belief in astonishment.
~ Pat Conroy
I’ve never had anyone’s approval, so I’ve learned to live without it.
It did not look like the work of God, but it might have represented the handicraft of a God with a joyous sense of humor, a dancing God who loved mischief as much as prayer, and playfulness as much as mischief.
The tide was a poem that only time could create, and I watched it stream and brim and makes its steady dash homeward, to the ocean.
