In the dust where we have buried the silent races and their abominations we have buried so much of the delicate magic of life.

It was not the passion that was new to her, it was the yearning adoration. She knew she had always feared it, for it left her helpless; she feared it still, lest if se adored him too much, then she would lose herself, become effaced, and she did not want to be effaced, a slave, like a savage woman. She must not become a slave. She feared her adoration, yet she would not at once fight against it.

Nothing that comes from the deep, passional soul is bad, or can be bad.

It grew late. Through the open door, stealthily, came the scent of madonna lilies, almost as if it were prowling abroad.

If only we could live two lives: the first in which to make one's mistakes, and the second in which to profit by them.

Only the flow matters; live and let live, love and let love. There is no point in love.

I am part of the sun as my eye is part of me. That I am part of the earth my feet know perfectly, and my blood is part of the sea. My soul knows that I am part of the human race, my soul is an organic part of the great human race, as my spirit is part of my nation. In my own very self, I am part of my family.