Only when one is connected to one's own core is one connected to others, I am beginning to discover. And, for me, the core, the inner spring, can best be refound through solitude.

One learns to accept the fact that no permanent return is possible to an old form of relationship; and, more deeply still, that there is no holding of a relationship to a single form. This is not tragedy but part of the ever-recurrent miracle of life and growth.

Too many people, too many demands, too much to do; competent, busy, hurrying people - It just isn't living at all.

The shape of my life is, of course, determined by many things; my background and childhood, my mind and its education, my conscience and its pressures, my heart and its desires.

Flowers always have it - poise, completion, fulfillment, perfection . . .

war is a thug's game. The thug strikes first and harder. He doesn't go by rules and he isn't afraid of hurting people.

I find there is a quality to being alone that is incredibly precious. Life rushes back into the void, richer, more vivid, fuller than before.