I do not like talking casually to people - it does not interest me - and most of them are unwilling to talk at all seriously.

I do not like talking casually to people - it does not interest me - and most of them are unwilling to talk at all seriously.

Nothing feeds the center of being so much as creative work. The curtain of mechanization has come down between the mind and the hand.

People "died" all the time. . . . Parts of them died when they made the wrong kinds of decisions-decisions against life. Sometimes they died bit by bit until finally they were just living corpses walking around. If you were perceptive you could see it in their eyes; the fire had gone out. . . you always knew when you made a decision against life. The door clicked and you were safe inside-safe and dead.

Certain springs are tapped only when you're alone.

The bearing, rearing, feeding and educating of children; the running of a house with its thousand details; human relationships with their myriad pulls - women's normal occupations in general run counter to creative life, or contemplative life, or saintly life.

Guys kick friendship all over just like a soccer, nonetheless it does not appear to crack. Girls deal with it like glass and it goes to items.