Some day some one will write a book about that frantic search of the creative worker for silence and freedom, not only from interruption but from the fear of interruption.

Girls inevitably grew into women, but something of the boy persisted in every man.

I believe that the matter is automatically self-regulating; that those women who prefer the home and have an ability for it will eventually return to it; that others, like myself, will compromise; and that still others, temperamentally unfitted for it, will remain in the world to add to its productivity.

when knowledge comes in at the door, fear and superstition fly out of the window.

Death was a beginning and not an end; it was the morning of the spirit. Tired bodies lay down to sleep and their souls wakened to the morning, rested; the first fruits of them that slept.

... if one can remember without loving, then couldn't one love without remembering?

Love sees clearly, and seeing, loves on. But infatuation is blind; when it gains sight, it dies.