dogma and shrinking from the external world are at one limit of the range of belief. At the other are science and poetry and, indeed, reality.
A world is to be fought for, sung, and built: Love must imagine the world.
The world is not made of molecules, the world is made of stories.
I will try to be non-violent one more day this morning, waking the world away in the violent day.
If there were no poetry on any day in the world, poetry would be invented that day. For there would be an intolerable hunger.
The world is made up of Stories, not Atoms.
What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open.