Who tells a finer tale than any of us. Silence does.

Coffee, according to the women of Denmark, is to the body what the Word of the Lord is to the soul.

Your own self, your personality and existence are reflected within the mind of each of the people whom you meet, ... into a likeness, a caricature of yourself, which still lives on and appears to be, in some way, the truth about you. Even a flattering picture is... a lie.

The entire being of a woman is a secret which should be kept.

It is not the visions but the activity which makes you happy, and the joy and glory of the flier is the flight itself.

It is when people are told their own thoughts that they think they are being insulted.

The air was cold to the lungs, the long grass dripping wet, and the herbs on it gave out their spiced astringent scent. In a little while on all sides the Cicada would begin to sing. The grass was me , and the air, the distant invisible mountains were me, the tired oxen were me. I breathed with the slight night-wind in the thorn trees.