A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living.
No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.
The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.
Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you
I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.
You cannot find peace by avoiding life.
How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?
Fear no more, says the heart.
I am rooted, but I flow.
My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness.
A feminist is any woman who tells the truth about her life
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.
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.
Growing up is losing some illusions, in order to acquire others.
Until we can comprehend the beguiling beauty of a single flower, we are woefully unable to grasp the meaning and potential of life itself.
We do not know our own souls, let alone the souls of others. Human beings do not go hand in hand the whole stretch of the way. There is a virgin forest in each; a snowfield where even the print of birds' feet is unknown. Here we go alone, and like it better so. Always to have sympathy, always to be accompanied, always to be understood would be intolerable.
Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.
For now she need not think of anybody. She coud be herself, by herself. And that was what now she often felt the need of - to think; well not even to think. To be silent; to be alone. All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others... and this self having shed its attachments was free for the strangest adventures.
A light here required a shadow there.
The only advice ... that one person can give another about reading is to take no advice, to follow your own instincts, to use your own reason, to come to your own conclusions.
One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.
I always had the deepest affection for people who carried sublime tears in their silences.
I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me.
If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.
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