These bright roofs, these steep towers, these jewel-lakes, these skeins of railroad line - all spoke to her and she answered. She was glad they were there. She belonged to them and they to her.

Not knowing how to feed the spirit, we try to muffle its demands in distraction...What matters is that one be for a time inwardly attentive.

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.

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

When I cannot write a poem, I bake biscuits and feel just as pleased.

If it is a woman's function to give, she must be replenished, too.

The nice thing about really intelligent people is that when you talk with them they make you feel intelligent too.