If one is estranged from oneself, then one is estranged from others too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others.

By and large, mothers and housewives are the only workers who do not have regular time off. They are the great vacationless class.

One must lose one's life to find it.

The punctuation of anniversaries is terrible, like the closing of doors, one after another between you and what you want to hold on to.

the issue of war or peace is an issue that concerns not only experts on Foreign Affairs but every citizen of the United States.

Parting is inevitably painful, even for a short time. It's like an amputation, I feel a limb is being torn off, without which I shall be unable to function. And yet, once it is done... life rushes back into the void, richer, more vivid and fuller than before.

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?