[In old age] there is a childlike innocence, often, that has nothing to do with the childishness of senility. The moments become precious . . .
May SartonMore than any other beauty (though it is true of all beauty except in art) passion seems to me to have the seeds of its own destruction in it.
May SartonThe gift turned inward, unable to be given, becomes a heavy burden, even sometimes a kind of poison. It is as though the flow of life were backed up.
May SartonI always forget how important the empty days are, how important it may be sometimes not to expect to produce anything, even a few lines in a journal. A day when one has not pushed oneself to the limit seems a damaged damaging day, a sinful day. Not so! The most valuable thing one can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of a room.
May Sarton