I am in the night of the stars. The moon is new, and I see my way by focusing on the light given off by the Souls of the trees. The night air is thick and dark and sweet, like blueberries. It enters my nose and throat and ears to fill me up with its night magic. My ancestors are with me. They are in me. I can hear them. I felt them all day. My great-grandmother, Lily Rose, came first. They will guide me with voices that flicker like lightening bugs, orange, hot, liquid glow at the moment.

— Sophia Rose

I am never alone wherever I am. The air itself supplies me with a century of love. When I breathe in, I am breathing in the laughter, tears, victories, passions, thoughts, memories, existence, joys, moments, and the hues of the sunlight on many tones of skin; I am breathing in the same air that was exhaled by many before me. The air that bore them life. And so how can I ever say that I am alone?

— C. JoyBell C.

I do my job like I breathe — so if I can’t breathe I’m in trouble.

— Karl Lagerfeld

I don't know much about kisses, but I can assure you that hers were no less fierce than a swarm of bullets tearing the air

— Xavier Velasco

... If the dead can come back to this earth and move unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or if the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

— Paul Hoffman

I had allowed my body to take whatever path it wished. The fact that it was guiding me and not I gave me great pleasure. I had confidence. The body is not blind wrought material when bathed in Greek light; it is suffused with abundant soul which makes it phosphorescent, and is left free, it is able to arrive at its own decision and find the correct road without the mind's intervention. Conversely, the soul is not an invisible airy phantom; it has taken on somebody's sureness and warmth in its own right, and it savors the world with what you might call carnal pleasure, as though it had a mouth and nostrils and hands with which to caress this world. Man often lacks the persistence to maintain all of his humanity. He mutilates himself. Sometimes he wishes to be released from his soul sometimes from his body. To enjoy both together seems a heavy sentence. But here in Greece these two graceful, deathless elements are able to commingle like hot water with cold, the soul to take something from the body, the body from the soul. They become friends, and thus man, here on Greece's divine threshing floor, is able to live and journey unmutilated, intact. (Report to GREC)

— N. Kazantzakis

I had allowed my body to take whatever path it wished. The fact that it was guiding me and not I gave me great pleasure. I had confidence. The body is not blind wrought material when bathed in Greek light; it is suffused with abundant soul which makes it phosphorescent, and it left free, it is able to arrive at its own decision and find the correct road without the mind's intervention. Conversely, the soul is not an invisible airy phantom; it has taken on somebody's sureness and warmth in its own right, and it savors the world with what you might call carnal pleasure, as though it had a mouth and nostrils and hands with which to caress this world. Man often lacks the persistence to maintain all of his humanity. He mutilates himself. Sometimes he wishes to be released from his soul sometimes from his body. To enjoy both together seems a heavy sentence. But here in Greece these two graceful, deathless elements are able to commingle like hot water with cold, the soul to take something from the body, the body from the soul. They become friends, and thus man, here on Greece's divine threshing floor, is able to live and journey unmutilated, intact. (Report to GREC)

— N. Kazantzakis

I had allowed my body to take whatever path it wished. The fact that it was guiding me and not I gave me great pleasure. I had confidence. The body is not blind wrought material when bathed in Greek light; it is suffused with abundant soul which makes it phosphorescent, and it left free, it is able to arrive at its own decision and find the correct road without the mind's intervention. Conversely, the soul is not an invisible airy phantom; it has taken on somebody's sureness and warmth in its own right, and it savors the world with what you might call carnal pleasure, as though it had a mouth and nostrils and hands with which to caress this world. Man often lacks the persistence to maintain all of his humanity. He mutilates himself. Sometimes he wishes to be released from his soul sometimes from his body. To enjoy both together seems a heavy sentence. But here is Greece these two graceful, deathless elements are able to commingle like hot water with cold, the soul to take something from the body, the body from the soul. They become friends, and thus man, here on Greece's divine threshing floor, is able to live and journey unmutilated, intact. (Report to GREC)

— N. Kazantzakis

I love good cries, loud sobs that soak your pillow that kind that come at the endow a perfect book you're gasping for areas droplets of salt water trickle down your cheeks into the corners of your mouths your chest rises and fall sand your vision is blurred by the tears but your mind is so clear and your every though tin that moment feels so meaningful and important and rightist feels okay to just let it all outfit makes you feel like you are free

— Madisen Kuhn

I love to see those paragliders weaving softly around Moon Point, their legs floating above you in the air. When they drift in for a landing, their feet touch the ground, and they trot forward from the continued motion of the glider, which billows down like a setting sun. I never get tired of watching them, and I've seen them thousands of times. I always wondered what that kind of freedom would feel like.

— Deb Caletti