I love the night. I love to feel the tide of darkness rising, slowly and slowly washing, turning over and over, lifting, floating, all that lies strewn upon the dark beach, all that lies hid in rocky hollows.

How idiotic civilization is! Why be given a body if you have to keep it shut up in a case like a rare, rare fiddle?

I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and comfort of friendship was that one had to explain nothing.

Do the hardest thing on earth for you. ACT YOURSELF.

But the more poetry one reads the more one longs to read!

The great thing to remember is we can do whatever we wish to do provided our wish is strong enough.

there does seem to me something sad in life. It is hard to say what it is. I don't mean the sorrow that we all know, like illness and poverty and death. No, it is something different. It is there, deep down, deep down, part of one, like one's breathing.