Only in growth, reform, and change, paradoxically enough, is true security to be found.

Go for a short walk in a soft rain - lovely - so many wild flowers startling me through the woods and a lawn sprinkled with dandelions, like a night with stars. And through it all the sound of soft rain like the sound of innumerable earthworms stirring in the ground.

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.

I must write it all out, at any cost. Writing is thinking. It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living.

People talk about love as if it were something you could give, like an armful of flowers.

Duration is not a test of truth or falsehood.

We are always bargaining with our feelings so that we can live from day to day.