You can't be a little bit saintly any more than you can be a little bit pregnant.

... love and fear increase together with a precision almost mathematical: the greater the love is then the greater the fear is.

I am sick of war. Every woman of my generation is sick of war. Fifty years of war. Wars rumored, wars beginning, wars fought, wars ending, wars paid for, wars endured.

Freedom is no guarantee of anything. It is only defined today by what it is not. What it is takes forms strange and of infinite variety - bizarre as in a masquerade.

in mad people fear goes on constantly, night and day, wearing one ditch in the mind that all thoughts must travel in.

Lord make me satisfied with small things. Make me content to live on the outside of life. God make me love the rind!

I cannot believe this is the end. Nor can I believe that death is more than the blindness of those living. And if this is only the consolation of a heart in its necessity, or that easy faith born of despair, it does not matter, since it gives us courage somehow to face the mornings. Which is as much as the heart can ask at times.