I did not choose solitude. Who would? It came on me like a kind of vocation, demanding an effort that married women can't picture.

Every so often something shatters like ice and we are in the river of our existence. We are aware.

I spend most of my time writing.

The only time I see the truth is when I cross my eyes.

Don't read anything except what destroys the insulation between yourself and your experience.

Now that I knew fear, I also knew it was not permanent. As powerful as it was, its grip on me would loosen. It would pass.

What men call adventures usually consist of the stoical endurance of appalling daily misery.