Gretel Ehrlich
The lessons of impermanence taught me this: loss constitutes an odd kind of fullness; despair empties out into an unquenchable appetite for life. ― Gretel Ehrlich, The Solace of Open Spaces (Penguin Books, December 2, 1986)
The lessons of impermanence taught me this: loss constitutes an odd kind of fullness; despair empties out into an unquenchable appetite for life. ― Gretel Ehrlich, The Solace of Open Spaces (Penguin Books, December 2, 1986)
There is a language older by far and deeper than words. It is the language of bodies, of body on body, wind on snow, rain on trees, wave on stone. It is the language of dream, gesture, symbol, memory. We have forgotten this language. We do not even remember that it exists. — Derrick Jensen,… Continue reading Derrick Jensen
Now what looks like smoke is only mare’s tails—clouds streaming—and as the season changes, my young dog and I wonder if raindrops might not be shattered lightning. ― Gretel Ehrlich, Islands, the Universe, Home Home (Penguin Books, October 1, 1992)
All through autumn we hear a double voice: one says everything is ripe; the other says everything is dying. The paradox is exquisite. We feel what the Japanese call “aware”–an almost untranslatable word meaning something like “beauty tinged with sadness. ― Gretel Ehrlich, The Solace of Open Spaces (Penguin Books, December 2, 1986)
Leaves are verbs that conjugate the seasons. — Gretel Ehrlich, The Solace of Open Spaces (Penguin, 1986)
The world is full of places. Why is it that I am here? — Wendell Berry, The Long-Legged House: Essays (Counterpoint, 2012)