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The body is like the earth ... as vulnerable to overbuilding, being carved into parcels, cut off, overmined, and shorn of its power as any landscape.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
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Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Age: 79
Born: 1945
Born: January 27
Poet
Psychologist
Writer
Indiana
United States
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Hands
Carved
Power
Parcel
Earth
Touching
Body
Landscape
Like
Vulnerable
Fingers
Cutting
Parcels
Feelings
Shorn
More quotes by Clarissa Pinkola Estes
The most important thing is to hold on, hold out, for your creative life, for your solitude, for your time to be and do, for your very life.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
To be poor and be without trees, is to be the most starved human being in the world. To be poor and have trees, is to be completely rich in ways that money can never buy.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
A lover cannot be chosen a la smorgasbord. A lover has to be chosen from soul-craving. To choose just because something mouthwatering stands before ou will never satisfy the hunger of the soul-self. And that is what the intuition is for it is the direct messenger of the soul.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Wolves and women are relational by nature, inquiring, possessed of great endurance and strength. They are deeply intuitive, intensely concerned with their young, their mate and their pack. Yet both have been hounded, harassed and falsely imputed to be devouring and devious, overly aggressive, of less value than those who are their detractors.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Long ago the word alone was treated as two words, all one. To be all one meant to be wholly one, to be in oneness, either essentially or temporarily. That is precisely the goal of solitude, to be all one.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
If you have never been called a defiant, incorrigible, impossible woman… have faith. There is yet time.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
To love pleasure takes little. To love truly takes a hero who can manage his own fear.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Within every woman there is a wild and natural creature, a powerful force, filled with good instincts, passionate creativity, and ageless knowing.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Some say that sudden knowledge of mystical matters is accomplished only in complete quietude, or that Creator, in one of God's many forms, appears only in orderly ways that are beauteous and picturesque, or that the mystical appears only in completely silent ways. All are true. Except for the 'only' part.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
The body is a multilingual being. It speaks through its color and its temperature, the flush of recognition, the glow of love, the ash of pain, the heat of arousal, the coldness of nonconviction. . . . It speaks through the leaping of the heart, the falling of the spirits, the pit at the center, and rising hope.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Bone by bone, hair by hair, Wild Woman comes back. Through night dreams, through events half understood and half remembered.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
The psyches and souls of women also have their own cycles and seasons of doing and solitude, running and staying, being involved and being removed, questing and resting, creating and incubating, being of the world and returning to the soul-place.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
I have to go to the woods, and I have to meet the wolf, or else my life will never begin.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Writing, real writing, should leave a small sweet bruise somewhere on the writer . . . and on the reader.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
When you focus with soul eyes, / You will see home in many, many places.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
The point of art is not simply to express ourselves, but to create an external, concrete form in which the soul of our lives can be evoked and contained.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Wolves never look more funny than when they have lost the scent and scrabble to find it again: they hop in the air they run in circles, they plow up the ground with their noses . . . .
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Like all other lonely or hungry things, ego loves the light. It sees light, and the possibility of being close to the soul, and it creeps up to it and steals one of its essential camouflages. In a hunger for soul, our own ego-self steals the pelt
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
A runner is real when she takes the first step.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Art is not meant to be created in stolen moments only.
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
