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I had a variety of minds about me and all of them unsettled.

I never felt a feeling that I knew or could know to be unlike the feelings of other people. I never consciously thought, except after patterns that the world or my fellows set for me.

I had a calling inside of me. I had a sense that when I was going through experiences like living on the streets, losing my parents to AIDS, just having my whole world turned upside-down, there was this feeling inside of me like I was meant for something greater.

I fancied I had some constancy of mind because I could bear my own sufferings, but found through the sufferings of others I could be weakened like a child.

It is not my mode of thought that has caused my misfortunes, but the mode of thought of others.

I had a mystical experience when I was in my late teens, early 20s, and I spent years trying to recapture that.

It was only as I wrote about it that I began to find paths of access to feelings that were intolerable to me then.

There was always a creative impulse in me but I never felt rooted to anything.

There have been few things in my life which have had a more genial effect on my mind than the possession of a piece of land.

But the experience that I had, which was basically just feeling loved and taken care of in a room full of thousands of people I didn't know, seemed to be a pretty strong sign that what I was doing was a good thing.