Women's work is always toward wholeness.

Love opens the doors into everything, as far as I can see, including and perhaps most of all, the door into one's own secret, and often terrible and frightening, real self.

Without anxiety life would have very little savor.

They are commiting murder who merely live.

I suppose one has to remember that 'life' is important too, though it's something I forget in some moods, everything except work seeming like an interruption or really non-life.

So this was fame at last! Nothing but a vast debt to be paid to the world in energy, blood, and time.

Failure would only be if you had somewhere stopped growing. As far as I can see the whole duty of the artist is to keep on growing.