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Once you have lived with mountains, there is no escape. You belong to them.
When I listen to his songs (on tape or disk), the crickets and cicadas maintain a respectful silence. I’m sure they are listening.
Such moments come to each of us—moments when we feel deeply moved or inspired, moments when time seems to stand still… They come but rarely, as small miracles, like the fragrance of the first summer ram on parched earth, or the song of the whistling-thrush emerging like a sweet secret from a dark forest; moments when heaven is here, compensating for the irritations and petty disasters that we create around ourselves each day.
whenever I feel like giving up, I try to recapture that moment when heaven and earth and I were all one; and then the writing begins again.
Delight cannot be planned for—she makes no appointments!
It is always the same with mountains. Once you have lived with them for any length of time, you belong to them. There is no escape.
the universe as an ordered whole—the sum total of experience!
For this unpretentious flower does seem to sum it all up: perfection without apparent striving for it,
It has a sort of unguarded innocence that is beyond corruption.
For every time I see the sky I am aware of belonging to the universe rather than to just one corner of the earth.
in India the true spring, the beginning of things, the birthday of nature, is not in March but in June.
