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Research is formalized curiosity. It is poking and prying with a purpose. It is a seeking that he who wishes may know the cosmic secrets of the world and they that dwell therein.

— Zora Neale Hurston, Dust Tracks on a Road

I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome. I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing, as though I had wings.

— Mary Oliver, Starlings in Winter

Through Love all pain will turn to medicine.

— Rumi

Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.

— Mary Oliver, Evidence

I believe in kindness. Also in mischief. Also in singing, especially when singing is not necessarily prescribed.

— Mary Oliver, Evidence

“Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore…”

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