It's the perpetually unfinished quality of housework that makes it oppressive - it never ends, like bad psychoanalysis, or a dream interrupted. It is paradoxically true that it is exactly this daily re-creation of the world that lends housekeeping its nobility and romance.

to have a crisis, and act upon it, is one thing. To dwell in perpetual crisis is another.

Insanity is a lack of proportion.

All our loves are contained in all our other loves.

the gardens of our childhood are all beautiful.

Weather creates character.

It's the perpetually unfinished quality of housework that makes it oppressive - it never ends, like bad psychoanalysis, or a dream interrupted. It is paradoxically true that it is exactly this daily re-creation of the world that lends housekeeping its nobility and romance.