I adore Life. What do all the fools matter and all the stupidity. They do matter but somehow for me they cannot touch the body of Life. Life is marvellous. I want to be deeply rooted in it - to live - to expand - to breathe in it - to rejoice - to share it. To give and to be asked for Love.

The pleasure of all reading is doubled when one lives with another who shares the same books.

Could we change our attitude, we should not only see life differently, but life itself would come to be different.

I have such a horror of telegrams that ask me how I am!! I always want to reply dead.

Ach, Tchekov! Why are you dead? Why can’t I talk to you in a big darkish room at late evening—where the light is green from the waving trees outside? I’d like to write a series of Heavens: that would be one.

Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart - oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape - of your sister.

My love for you tonight is so deep and tender that it seems to be outside myself as well.