the snow ... came in thick tufts like new wool - washed before the weaver spins it. — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
To be able to make up stories has been a great gift to me from my ancestors and from the storytellers who were so… — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
“rip the tongue from the darkness shake the earth with your breathing and explode gray ice dreams of eternity” — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
He made a story for all of them, a story to give them strength. The words of the story poured out of his mouth… — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
The truth of course was otherwise, but Lecha had never felt she owed anyone the truth, unless it was truth about their own lives,… — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
“He could get no rest as long as the memories were tangled with the present” — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
The story was the important thing and little changes here and there were really part of the story. There were even stories about the… — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
Being alive was all right then: he had not breathed like that for a long time. — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
I don't make outlines or plans because whenever I do, they turn out to be useless. It is as if I am compelled to… — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
What is it about us human beings that we can’t let go of lost things? — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
The only way to get change is not through the courts or — heaven forbid — the politicians, but through a change of human… — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
Night. Heavenly delicious sweet night of the desert that calls all of us to love her. The night is our comfort with her coolness… — Leslie Marmon Silko Copy Share Image
