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“His chief form of entertainment was reading. The last moments he was in a cabin were usually spent scanning bookshelves and nightstands. The life inside a book always felt welcoming to Knight. It pressed no demands on him, while the world of actual human interactions was so complex. Conversations between people can move like tennis games, swift and unpredictable. There are constant subtle visual and verbal cues, there's innuendo, sarcasm, body language, tone. Everyone occasionally fumbles an encounter, a victim of social clumsiness. It's part of being human.
To Knight, it all felt impossible. His engagement with the written word might have been the closest he could come to genuine human encounters. The stretch of days between thieving raids allowed him to tumble into the pages, and if he felt transported he could float in bookworld, undisturbed, for as long as he pleased.”
― Michael Finkel, The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit

“Use the act of breathing to shape air into sounds that take on the context of language that lifts and transports those who hear it, takes them beyond what they think and how they feel and empowers them to think and know even more. We’re all storytellers, really. That’s what we do. That is our power as human beings. Not to tell people how to think and feel and therefore know - but through stories allow them to discover questions within themselves. Turn off your TV and your devices and talk to each other. Share stories. Be joined, transported and transformed.”
― Richard Wagamese, Embers: One Ojibway's Meditations

“The director said wonderful things about you, that you're very talented," I say, and then smell the cardamom Garrance had given me, and I'm instantly put into a trance from green, earthy, and perfumed aromas. It's like all my troubles are gone. I'm in India, envisioning dances and beautiful saris and delicious naan bread baked on hot coals.
Charles taps me on the shoulder. "Kate, where did you go?"
I wobble. "I think I was in Mumbai for a second. Maybe Chennai? I don't know. I've never been to India. I've just seen pictures in magazines."
He places his hands on my shoulders. "Spices transport you?"
"Yes," I say, still a little bit out of it. "Hers do."
He grips my shoulders, pulls me in closer. I smell his vanilla scent, and my knees turn to butter. "And I now know why my mother likes you. It makes perfect sense. She was right."
"About what?" I ask, breathing him.
"Working together and letting go of the bad energy. I know we can do this." His eyes spark with a passionate fire, and he smiles, his dimple puckering. I might melt like fondue. "Let's create a meal for her---the best one she's ever had."
He leans against the stove, his sexy, smoldering hazel eyes meeting mine.
My neck goes hot. I race over to the prep station and pick up the bag of cardamom, breathe it in---earthy, sweet, smoky, and nutty. Big mistake. Because I'm now licking his muscled chest in one of my deranged fantasies, which is so wrong. I throw the bag down, and the grains scatter on the countertop. Charles saunters over and places a hand on my shoulder. "Kate, everything okay?"
"Cool, cool, cool," I say. I shrug off his touch, dip around his shoulder, noticing how V-shaped he is. "I was thinking we add this into the peanut sauce for the satay."
"Good idea," he says. "Grind it. Nice and fine."
Stop. Stop talking with your lilting English accent. Stop smiling.
I'm staring at his hands, his lips, his eyelashes. My mind, my thoughts, and my body are about to explode.
"Kate, can you pass me the chilis? My mother likes things spicy."
"So do I," I say, reaching for it. Our hands touch as I hand him the spice.
I shiver.
"Me too," he says with a teasing growl. "And I know you added more pepper into my dish the other day. Good thing I can handle the heat."
I can't. It's getting way too hot in here.”
― Samantha Verant, The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique

“There was no burns unit at the Maui hospital during the August 2023 Maui wildfires, burn victims had to be transported to Oahu for treatment.”
― Steven Magee