The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful.

What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives?

A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.

I believe in God, only I spell it Nature.

I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it.

A hen is only an egg's way of making another egg.

I've made an odd discovery. Every time I talk to a savant I feel quite sure that happiness is no longer a possibility. Yet when I talk with my gardener, I'm convinced of the opposite.

Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed.

Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.

Trees are the earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heaven.