Love isn't how you feel. It's what you do.

The joys of love...last only a moment. The sorrows of love last all the life long.

Creative scientists and saints expect revelation and do not fear it. Neither do children. But as we grow up and we are hurt, we learned not to trust.

In our dreams we are able to fly . . . and that is a remembering of how we were meant to be.

That's a sure way to tell about somebody--the way they play, or don't play, make-believe.

But my memories are like a fire in winter—whenever I'm cold I can warm my hands at them. —Ditta

I don't know if they're really like everybody else, or if they're able to pretend they are.