This world is run by people who know how to do things. They know how things work. They are equipped. Up there, there's a layer of people who run everything. But we - we're just peasants. We don't understand what's going on, and we can't do anything.

Small things amuse small minds.

But children can't be a center of life and a reason for being. They can be a thousand things that are delightful, interesting, satisfying, but they can't be a well-spring to live from. Or they shouldn't be.

We do not know which of our silver products will be judged as gold by our successors, nor does it matter.

I hate to sound clichéd, but I do see life as a journey. How else can you see it?

Her own contempt for any forms of pressure society might put on her was so profound and instinctive that she as instinctively despised anyone who paid tribute to them.

Time is the River on which the leaves of our thoughts are carried into oblivion.