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?

One learns first of all in beach living the art of shedding; how little one can get along with, not how much.

You can’t just write and write and put things in a drawer. They wither without the warm sun of someone else’s appreciation.

If one talks to more than four people, it is an audience; and one cannot really think or exchange thoughts with an audience.

Fame separates you from life.

We must relearn to be alone.

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