But childhood prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.

But childhood prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.

What we suffer, what we endure, what we muff, what we kill, what we miss, what we are guilty of, is done by us, as individuals, in private.

...in a time lacking in truth and certainty and filled with anguish and despair, no woman should be shamefaced in attempting to give back to the world, through her work, a portion of its lost heart.

True revolutions in art restore more than they destroy.

Innocence of heart and violence of feeling are necessary in any kind of superior achievement: The arts cannot exist without them.

I'll lie here and learn How, over their ground, Trees make a long shadow And a light sound.