conversation is like a dear little baby that is brought in to be handed round. You must rock it, nurse it, keep it on the move if you want it to keep smiling.

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.

Warm, eager, living life-to be rooted in life-to learn, to desire, to know, to feel, to think, to act. This is what I want. And nothing less. That is what I must try for.

You might drop your heart into me and you'd never hear it touch bottom.

Wind moving through grass so that the grass quivers. This moves me with an emotion I don't even understand.

Winter is a terrible time for thin people - terrible! Why should it hound them down, fasten on them, worry them so? Why not, for a change, take a nip, take a snap at the fat ones who wouldn't notice? But no! It is sleek, warm, cat-like summer that makes the fat one's life a misery. Winter is all for bones.

The mind I love must have wild places.