Regret is an appalling waste of energy, and no one who intends to be a writer can afford to indulge in it.

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

That is the fearful part of having been near death. One knows how easy it is to die. The barriers that are up for everybody else are down for you, and you've only to slip through.

No, no the mind I love must still have wild places - a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown litde wood, the chance of a snake or two (real snakes), a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with those litde flowers planted by the wind.

In the shortest sea voyage there is no sense of time. You have been down in the cabin for hours or days or years. Nobody knows or cares. You know all the people to the point of indifference. You do not believe in dry land any more - you are caught in the pendulum itself, and left there, idly swinging.

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

... I'd always rather be with people who loved me too little rather than with people who loved me too much.