I had been afraid of the awful presence of the river, which was the soul of the river, but through her [Ultima] I learned that my spirit shared in the spirit of all things.

The sun was good. The men of the llano were men of the sun. The men of the farms along the river were men of the moon. But we were all children of the white...

Why are they like that?’ I asked Cico. We skirted Blue Lake and worked our way through the tall, golden grass to the creek.’I don’t know,’ Cico answered, ‘except that people, grown-ups and kids, seem...

It seemed the more I knew about people the more I knew about the strange magic hidden in their hearts.

The germ of creation lies in violence.

There are many gods . . . gods of beauty and magic, gods of the garden, gods in our own backyards, but we go off to foreign countries to find new ones, we reach to...

Ultima came to stay with us the summer I was almost seven. When she came the beauty of the llano unfolded before my eyes, and the gurgling waters of the river sang to the hum...

The orange of the golden carp appeared at the edge of the pond. . . . We watched in silence at the beauty and grandeur of the great fish. Out of the corners of my...