wild

It is in all of us to defy expectations, to go into the world and to be brave, and to want, to need, to hunger for adventures. To embrace the chance and risk so that we may breathe and know what it is to be free.

Find a part of yourself hidden in the twilight.

Enjoy the contented silence.

At some point, one asks, "Toward what end is my life lived?" A great freedom comes from being able to answer that question. A sleeper can be decoyed out of bed by the sheer beauty of dawn on the open seas. Part of my job, as I see it, is to allow that to happen. Sleepers like me need at some point to rise and take their turn on morning watch for the sake of the planet, but also for their own sake, for the enrichment of their lives. From the deserts of Namibia to the razor-backed Himalayas, there are wonderful creatures that have roamed the Earth much longer than we, creatures that not only are worthy of our respect but could teach us about ourselves.

You can love her with everything you have and she still wont belong to you. She will run wild with you, beside you with everystep but let me tell you something about women who run with wolves, their fierce hearts dont settle between walls and their instinct is stronger than upbringing. Love her wild or leave her there.

Wild animals are less wild and more human than many humans of this world

There was something wild about her, as if she was connected to this place but not the people.

She had a wild, wandering soul but when she loved, she loved with chaos and that made all the difference.

What if one's tendency to go wandering off is truly a gift? What if the driving force beneath the curiosity that leads a person to wander off the beaten path is not immaturity, but the wild, untamable Spirit of God, drawing them into the foliage to be refined, to discover fresh insights, and pioneer a new way forward for a new group of people?

This is an ode to life.The anthem of the world.For as there are billionsof different stars thatmake up the skyso, too, are there billions of different humans thatmake up the Earth.Some shine brighter but all are made ofthe same cosmic dust.O the joy of beingin life with all these people!I speak of differencesbecause they are there.Like the different organsthat make up our bodies.Earth, itself, is one large body.Listen to how it howlswhen one human isin misery.When one kills another, the Earth feels the pang in itschest. When one orgasms, the Earth craves a cigarette.Look carefully,these animals are beauty spots that make the Earth__ face lovelier and more loveable.These oceans are the Earth__ limpid eyes. These trees, its hair.This is an ode to life.The anthem of the world.I will no longer speak of differences, for the similaritiesare larger. Look even closer. There may bedistances between our limbs butthere are no spaces betweenour hearts. We long to be one.We long to be in nature andto run wild with its wildlife.Let us celebrate life and living, for it is sacrilegious to be ungrateful.Let us play and be playful, for it is sacrilegiousto be serious.Let us celebrate imperfectionsand make existenceproud of us, for tomorrow isdeath, and this is an ode to life. The anthem of the world.

Kiss her gypsy soul and love her for the wild rose she is.

I saw a cardinal when I was in Brooklyn, and I was almost moved to tears. I was, like, 'I can't believe this thing is legal. I can't believe this thing is in the wild. How did this happen? How has someone not killed them all? They're so conspicuous. They're gorgeous. How can they still be alive?'

No phone. No pool. No pets. No cigarettes. Ultimate freedom... No longer to be poisoned by civilization, he flees, and walks alone upon the land to become Lost in the Wild.

I have always brought home stray animals - everything from squirrels to wild rabbits to foxes and turtles.

Guns are part of the American psyche, aren't they? This is collateral damage for having a Wild West mentality. It's intrinsic to the American psyche. It's never going to change.

Men always do leave off really thinking, when the last bit of wild animal dies in them.

Poetry must have something in it that is barbaric, vast and wild.

I've always felt that what I have going for me is not my imagination, because everyone has an imagination. What I have is a relentlessly controlled imagination. What looks like wild invention is actually quite carefully calculated.