Once you have lived with another, it is a great torture to have to live alone.
The memories of childhood have a strange shuttling quality, and areas of darkness ring the spaces of light. The memories of childhood are like clear candles in an acre of night, illuminating fixed scenes from surrounding darkness.
That was the best of all. To speak the truth and be attended.
There are the lover and the beloved, but these two come from different countries.
To know who you are, you have to have a place to come from.
There is so much truth in children and so little self-consciousness. It always strikes me that they are so capable of losing and finding themselves and also losing and finding those things they feel close to.