Poetry does need a bit of ferocity. The only way to attend to the fractured world is to write a ferocious kind of music, to sing that volatility.
Nursing is a kind of mania; a fever in the blood; an incurable disease.
You and your horse. His strength and beauty. Your knowledge and patience and determination and understanding and love. That's what fuses the two of you onto this marvelous partnership that makes you wonder, "What can heaven offer any better then what I have here on earth?".
Dog lovers hate to clean out kennels. Horse lovers like cleaning stables.
If you have it, it is for life. It is a disease for which there is no cure. You will go on riding even after they have to haul you on a comfortable wise old cob, with feet like inverted buckets and a back like a fireside chair. . . when I can't ride anymore, I shall still keep horses as long as I can hobble about with a bucket and a wheelbarrow. When I can't hobble, I shall roll my wheelchair out to the fence of the field where my horses graze, and watch them.
Writing is a cop-out. An excuse to live perpetually in fantasy land, where you can create, direct and watch the products of your own head. Very selfish.
Nursing is a kind of mania; a fever in the blood; an incurable disease which, once contracted, cannot be got out of the system. If it was not like that, there would be no hospital nurses, for compared dispassionately with other professions, the hours are long, the work hard, and the pay inadequate to the amount of concentrated energy required. A nurse, however, does not view her profession dispassionately. It is too much a part of her.
You should not begin to pray for all you want until you realize that in God you have all you need.
I'm sure that a lot of women and men feel differently about it, but for me this isn't about being the girl in the band. . . it's just about being IN the band, if that makes sense? We're trying to keep it in a pure and genuine place for us and not break it down to gender, because it's just a bit boring and obvious isn't it?
Kissing someone is pretty intimate, actually very intimate, and your heart always kind of skips a beat before you do that.
Even for a moment do not think that you are the body. Give yourself no name, no shape. In the darkness and the silence reality is found.