She knew that the horse, born to serve nobly, had waited in vain for someone noble to serve. His spirit knew that nobility had gone out of men.

She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.

Now in November nearer comes the sun down the abandoned heaven.

A house o' women is as dead as a house wi' no fire, to my thinkin'. I'm not a spider as likes to corner myself. I like a man about, if he's only something to snap at.

I want us to be together without bothering about ourselves- to be really together because we ARE together, as if it were a phenomenon, not a thing we have to maintain by our own effort.

There's always the hyena of morality at the garden gate, and the real wolf at the end of the street.

One's action ought to come out of an achieved stillness: not to be a mere rushing on.