stars

Long before the stars died the birds began to sing - cool rippling doves, loud cheery starlings, the long lilting trills of warblers and thrushes.

One time, when I was little more than a baby, I was taken to visit my grandmother, who was living in a cottage on a nearly uninhabited stretch of beach in northern Florida. All I remember of this visit is being picked up from my crib in what seemed the middle of the night and carried from my bedroom and out of doors, where I had my first look at the stars. __t must have been an unusually clear and beautiful night for someone to have said, __et__ wake the baby and show her the stars._ The night sky, the constant rolling of the breakers against the shore, the stupendous light of the stars, all made an indelible impression on me. I was intuitively aware not only of a beauty I had never seen before but also that the world was far greater than the protected limits of the small child__ world which was all I had known thus far. I had a total, if not very conscious, moment of revelation: I saw creation bursting the bounds of daily restriction, and stretching out from dimension to dimension, beyond any human comprehension. I had been taught to say my prayers at night: Our Father, and a long string of God-blesses, and it was that first showing of the galaxies which gave me an awareness that the God I spoke to at bedtime was extraordinary and not just a bigger and better combination of the grownup powers of my father and mother. This early experience was freeing, rather than daunting, and since it was the first, it has been the foundation for all other such glimpses of glory. (The Irrational Season)

For the sun, stars, oceans, and all the trees, I__l consider it.

The stars were better company anyway. They were very beautiful, and they almost never snored.

The sky is a meadow of wildstar flowers.

One by one, the electric lights ringing the lawn were ignited. Each one, as it burst into brilliance, erased a constellation from the evening sky.

The wastes of snow on the hill were ghostly in the moonlight. The stars were piercingly bright.

Not just beautiful, though--the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they're watching me.

The glitter in the sky looks as if I could scoop it all up in my hands and let the stars swirl and touch one another but they are so distant so very far apart that they cannot feel the warmth of each other even though they are made of burning.

Witches are naturally nosy,_ said Miss Tick, standing up. __ell, I must go. I hope we shall meet again. I will give you some free advice, though.___ill it cost me anything?___hat? I just said it was free!_ said Miss Tick.__es, but my father said that free advice often turns out to be expensive,_ said Tiffany.Miss Tick sniffed. __ou could say this advice is priceless,_ she said, __re you listening?___es,_ said Tiffany.__ood. Now...if you trust in yourself...___es?__...and believe in your dreams...___es?__...and follow your star..._ Miss Tick went on.__es?__...you__l still be beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren__ so lazy. Goodbye.

As a citizen of the world, I will not confine myself within the gates of one nation or religion. I will not identify with only one species, sex, class or race; for I am a complete being, and that means that I embrace all of humanity, all of nature, every star and universe within the greater universe as a part of me. If we were all created in the image of God, and his love is unconditional, then why can't we love all living things with the same eyes as God? How can anybody say that one race is more superior than another, when we were all created in God's reflection?

Poetry is seeing everything when there is only one thing. It is looking at a rose but seeing the stars, moons, seas, and trees. It is a truth beyond logic, an experience beyond thought. Poetry is the Earth pausing on its axis in order to manifest itself as a rose.

May the stars guide you on your journey, and your heart always lead you home.

The stars looked down at me from infinite space. We are tiny, they said, but you are insignificant.

People do terrible things. People do beautiful things. It's against the black backdrop of evil that the shining light of good shows the brightest. We can't just focus on the darkness of the night, or we'll miss out on the stars.

It's a date.""It's a cookie.""It's a cookie date.

History is just a way of keeping score, but it doesn't have to be who we are.

Milkshakes make the world seem less shitty.