The fundamental magic of flying, a miracle that has nothing to do with any of its practical purposes - purposes of speed, accessibility, and convenience - and will not change as they change.

To mention a loved object, a person, or a place to someone else is to invest that object with reality.

No American can understand the need for time -- that is, simply space to breathe. If you have ten minutes to spare you should jam that full instead of leaving it -- as space around your next ten minutes. How can anything ripen without those 'empty' ten minutes?

It isn't for the moment you are struck that you need courage, but for that long uphill climb back to sanity and faith and security.

Flying was a very tangible freedom. In those days, it was beauty, adventure, discovery - the epitome of breaking into new worlds.

Woman's normal occupations in general run counter to creative life, or contemplative life, or saintly life.

For in our family an experience was not finished, not truly experienced, unless written down or shared with another.