Frenchwomen just never look ungroomed, do they?
When one is a stranger to oneself, then one is estranged from others, too.
Fame is a kind of death because it arrests life around the person in the public eye.
Travelers are always discoverers, especially those who travel by air. There are no signposts in the sky to show a man has passed that way before. There are no channels marked. The flier breaks each second into new uncharted seas.
Geniuses were like storms or cyclones, pulling everything into their path, sticks and stones and dust.
Cut asparagus at night - in desperation. When one is very tired one always does one more thing.
Woman's normal occupations in general run counter to creative life, or contemplative life, or saintly life.
people talk about 'sex' as though it hopped about by itself, like a frog!
war is a thug's game. The thug strikes first and harder. He doesn't go by rules and he isn't afraid of hurting people.
I can conceive of 'falling in love' over and over again. But 'marriage,' this richness of life itself, I cannot conceive of having again - or with anyone else. In this sense 'marriage' seems to me indissoluble.
Guys kick friendship all over just like a soccer, nonetheless it does not appear to crack. Girls deal with it like glass and it goes to items.
Splutter, splutter. Yes - we're off - we're rising. But why start off with an engine like that? But it smooths out now, like a long sigh, like a person breathing easily, freely. Like someone singing ecstatically, climbing, soaring - sustained note of power and joy. We turn from the lights of the city; we pivot on a dark wing; we roar over the earth. The plane seems exultant now, even arrogant. We did it, we did it!
Woman must be the pioneer in this turning inward for strength. In a sense, she has always been the pioneer.
It was a magic caused by the collision of modern methods and old ones; modern history and ancient; accessibility and isolation. And it was a magic which could only strike spark about that time. A few years earlier, from the point of view of aircraft alone, it would have been impossible to reach these places; a few later, and there will be no such isolation.
And if flying, like a glass-bottomed bucket, can give you that vision, that seeing eye, which peers down on the still world below the choppy waves - it will always remain magic.
The fundamental magic of flying, a miracle that has nothing to do with any of its practical purposes - purposes of speed, accessibility, and convenience - and will not change as they change.
When the wedding march sounds the resolute approach, the clock no longer ticks, it tolls the hour. The figures in the aisle are no longer individuals, they symbolize the human race.
I believe that what woman resents is not so much giving herself in pieces as giving herself purposelessly.
For it is only framed in space that beauty blooms.
... writing letters is thinking, just as talking to you is thinking.
It is only framed in space that beauty blooms; only in space are events, and objects and people unique and significant and therefore beautiful.
... the most ordinary everyday living is as delicate, as breath-taking, as difficult, takes as terrific physical and mental control and effort, as walking a tightrope.
Duration is not a test of truth or falsehood.
For it is not merely the trivial which clutters our lives but the important as well
These bright roofs, these steep towers, these jewel-lakes, these skeins of railroad line - all spoke to her and she answered. She was glad they were there. She belonged to them and they to her.
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