One must not look inward too much, while the inside is yet tender. I do not wish to frighten myself until I can stand it.

A man is whole only when he takes into account his shadow.

“God,” she cried, “what is love? Man seeking his own head? The human head, so rented by misery that even the teeth weigh! She couldn't tell me the truth because she had never planned it; her life was a continual accident, and how can you be prepared for that? Everything we can't bear in this world, some day we find in one person, and love it all at once.”

Our bones ache only while the flesh is on them.

I like my human experience served up with a little silence and restraint. Silence makes experience go further and, when it does die, gives it that dignity common to a thing one had touched and not ravished

No man needs curing of his individual sickness; his universal malady is what he should look to.

Even the contemplative life is only an effort, Nora my dear, to hide the body so the feet won’t stick out.