I find there is a quality to being alone that is incredibly precious. Life rushes back into the void, richer, more vivid, fuller than before.
Travel Far, Pay No Fare... a book can take you anywhere.
Only when one is connected to one's own core is one connected to others, I am beginning to discover. And, for me, the core, the inner spring, can best be refound through solitude.
I must try to be alone for part of each year...and part of each day...in order to keep my core, my center...Women must be still as the axis of a wheel in the midst of her activities. She must be the pioneer of achieving this stillness, not only for her own salvation, but for the salvation of family life, of society, perhaps even of our civilization.
the issue of war or peace is an issue that concerns not only experts on Foreign Affairs but every citizen of the United States.
For it is only framed in space that beauty blooms. Only in space are events and objects and people unique and significant-and therefore beautiful. A tree has significance if one sees it against the empty face of sky. A note in music gains significance from the silences on either side. A candle flowers in the space of night. Even small and casual things take on significance if they are washed in space, like a few autumn grasses in one corner of an Oriental painting, the rest of the page bare.
Can one make the future a substitute for the present? And what guarantee have we that the future will be any better if we neglect the present?
Certain springs are tapped only when you're alone.
To give without any reward, or any notice, has a special quality of its own.
life itself is always pulling you away from the understanding of life.
The most exhausting thing in life is being insincere.
It is only in solitude that I ever find my own core.
Why is life speeded up so? Why are things so terribly, unbearably precious that you can't enjoy them but can only wait breathless in dread of their going?
We seem so frightened today of being alone that we never let it happen. Even if family, friends, and movies should fail, there is still the radio or televsion to fill up the void... We can do our housework with soap-opera heroes at our side... Now instead of planting our solitude with our own dream blossoms, we choke the space with continuous music, chatter, and companionship to which we do not even listen. It is simply there to fill the vacuum. When the noise stops there is no inner music to take its place. We must re-learn to be alone.
If you surrender completely to the moments as they pass, you live more richly those moments.
A note of music gains significance from the silence on either side.
When each partner loves so completely that he has forgotten to ask himself whether or not he is loved in return; when he only knows that he loves and is moving to its music--then, and then only are two people able to dance perfectly in tune to the same rhythm.
Nothing feeds the center of being so much as creative work.
When you love someone you do not love them, all the time, in the exact same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships.
If one talks to more than four people, it is an audience; and one cannot really think or exchange thoughts with an audience.
Only with winter-patience can we bring the deep-desired, long-awaited Spring.
Fame separates you from life.
Eternally, woman spills herself away in driblets to the thirsty, seldom being allowed the time, the quiet, the peace, to let the pitcher fill up to the brim.
One learns first of all in beach living the art of shedding; how little one can get along with, not how much.
I would like to achieve a state of inner spiritual grace from which I could function and give as I was meant to in the eye of God.
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