No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.
A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living.
Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you
You cannot find peace by avoiding life.
I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.
Long ago I realized that no other person would be to me what you are.
The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.
A feminist is any woman who tells the truth about her life
Writing is still like heaving bricks over a wall.
I am rooted, but I flow.
Let us simmer over our incalculable cauldron, our enthralling confusion, our hotchpotch of impulses, our perpetual miracle - for the soul throws up wonders every second. Movement and change are the essence of our being; rigidity is death; conformity is death; let us say what comes into our heads, repeat ourselves, contradict ourselves, fling out the wildest nonsense, and follow the most fantastic fancies without caring what the world does or thinks or says. For nothing matters except life.
Growing up is losing some illusions, in order to acquire others.
Be truthful, and the result is bound to be amazingly interesting.
I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists; the reality of everything.
But I don't think of the future, or the past, I feast on the moment. This is the secret of happiness, but only reached now in middle age.
If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.
How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?
One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.
Until we can comprehend the beguiling beauty of a single flower, we are woefully unable to grasp the meaning and potential of life itself.
Love had a thousand shapes.
A light here required a shadow there.
Intimacy is a difficult art.
Do not move, do not go. Sink within this moment. Hold it for ever.
The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark.
Books are the mirrors of the soul.
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