To give without any reward, or any notice, has a special quality of its own.

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

I believe that what woman resents is not so much giving herself in pieces as giving herself purposelessly.

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.

After all, I don't see why I am always asking for private, individual, selfish miracles when every year there are miracles like white dogwood.

I feel I should not be ... so at the mercy of people's regard. And yet - it is the artist's desire for communication too; without the answering voice you get so numb; you lose faith in your powers to communicate.

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.