There Is Only One Real Deprivation... And

At Any Moment Solitude May Put On The Face Of Loneliness.

It Is Curious How Any Making Of Order Makes One Feel Mentally Ordered, Ordered Inside.

I Sometimes Think Men Don't 'hear' Very Well, If I Take Your Meaning To Be 'understand What Is Going On In A Person.' That's What Makes Them So Restful. Women Wear Each Other Out With Their Everlasting Touching Of The Nerve.

There Is A Wilder Solitude In Winter When Every Sense Is Pricked Alive And Keen.

The More Our Bodies Fail Us, The More Naked And More Demanding Is The Spirit, The More Open And Loving We Can Become If We Are Not Afraid Of What We Are And Of What We Feel. I Am Not A Phoenix Yet, But Here Among The Ashes, It May Be That The Pain Is Chiefly That Of New Wings Trying To Push Through.