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

the discoveries don't come when you're looking for them. They come when for some reason you've let go conscious control.

Friends--or lovers--are not always available to each other. Inner turmoils can cause us to be unhearing when someone needs us, to need to receive understanding when we should be giving understanding.

I do not think that I will ever reach a stage when I will say, "This is what I believe. Finished." What I believe is alive ... and open to growth

If it's bad art, it's bad religion, no matter how pious the subject.

Meg, when people don't know who they are, they are open either to being Xed, or Named

You learn to write by doing it.