We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken us a lifetime to learn. It seems the old are more able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young are more impatient and usually break the silence. It is a waste; for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is a great paradox.
What is one to do with such moments, such memories, but cherish them? Who knows what is beyond the known? And if you think that any day the secret of light might come, would you not keep the house of your mind ready? Would you not cleanse your study of all that is cheap, or trivial? Would you not live in continual hope, and pleasure, and excitement?
~ Mary Oliver in WINTER HOURS: PROSE, PROSE POEMS, AND POEMS