If it is a woman's function to give, she must be replenished, too.

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.

For it is not merely the trivial which clutters our lives but the important as well

For it is only framed in space that beauty blooms.

When one is a stranger to oneself then one is estranged from others too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others. Only when one is connected to one's own core is.

... once you get beyond the crust of the first pang it is all the same and you can easily bear it. It is just the transition from painlessness to pain that is so terrible.

Only love can be divided endlessly and still not diminish.