people talk about 'sex' as though it hopped about by itself, like a frog!

Geniuses were like storms or cyclones, pulling everything into their path, sticks and stones and dust.

I think one must do the thing -- whatever it is (and it changes from time to time) -- that unites you to the flowing stream of the world. At any price, one must do it first. Otherwise one can do nothing, nothing at all. One is out of touch, out of grace.

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?

there is no aristocracy of grief. Grief is a great leveler.

No new sect ever had humor; no disciples either, even the disciples of Christ.

Woman can best refind herself by losing herself in some kind of creative activity of her own.