Frenchwomen just never look ungroomed, do they?

... the most ordinary everyday living is as delicate, as breath-taking, as difficult, takes as terrific physical and mental control and effort, as walking a tightrope.

I want a singleness of eye, a purity of intention, a central core to my life that will enable me to carry out these obligations and activities as well as I can.

The intellectual is constantly betrayed by his vanity. Godlike he blandly assumes that he can express everything in words; whereas the things one loves, lives, and dies for are not, in the last analysis completely expressible in words.

My Life cannot implement in action the demands of all the people to whom my heart responds.

The world has been forced to its knees. Unhappily, we seldom find our way there without being beaten to it by suffering.

It's funny how you can be mad at someone one moment and want to hug them the next.