Mary Caroline Richards Quotes

Who are enemies? Those who oppose each others will.

Inhabit ourselves that we may indeed do what we want to do.

In a lethal world, poetry is necessary for survival.

Our works and our play. All our pleasures experienced as the pleasure of love. What could be better that? To feel in one's work the tender and flushed substance of one's dearest concern.

Compassion is an alternate perception

And with listening, too, it seems to me, it is not the ear that hears, it is not the physical organ that performs the act of inner receptivity. It is the total person who hears. Sometimes the skin seems to be the best listener, as it prickles and thrills, say to a sound or a silence; or the fantasy, the imagination: how it bursts into inner pictures as it listens and then responds by pressing its language, its forms, into the listening clay. To be open to what we hear, to be open in what we say.

Poetry often enters through the window of irrelevance.

Bear ye one another's burdens, the Lord said, and he was talking law.

It is for each of us freely to choose whom we shall serve, and find in that obedience our freedom.

From the seed grows a root, then a sprout; from the sprout, the seedling leaves; from the leaves, the stem; around the stem, the branches; at the top, the flower ... We cannot say that the seed causes the growth, nor that the soil does. We can say that the potentialities for growth lie within the seed, in mysterious life forces, which, when properly fostered, take on certain forms.

The child takes in his world as if it were food. And his world nourishes or starves him. Nothing escapes his thirst. Secrets are impossible. He identifies with his surroundings and they live within him unconsciously; it is perhaps for this reason that the small child has been characterized as naturally religious.

It helps, I think, to consider ourselves on a very long journey: the main thing is to keep to the faith, to endure, to help each other when we stumble or tire, to weep and press on.

The big art is our life.

We have to believe that a creative being lives within ourselves, whether we like it or not, and that we must get out of its way, for it will not give us peace until we do.

All the arts we practice are apprenticeship. The big art is our life.

Love is not a doctrine, Peace is not an international agreement. Love and peace are beings who live as possibilities in us.

For since most of our living is unconscious, play is like matchstrokes in the void, bringing into light the structures we behave by, illuminating for us, however briefly, our deep meanings.

We must be steady enough in ourselves, to be open and to let the winds of life blow through us, to be our breath, our inspiration ...