Here life goes on, even and monotonous on the surface, full of lightning, of summits and of despair, in its depths. We have now arrived at a stage in life so rich in new perceptions that cannot be transmitted to those at another stage - one feels at the same time full of so much gentleness and so much despair - the enigma of this life grows, grows, drowns one and crushes one, then all of a sudden in a supreme moment of light one becomes aware of the sacred.

Revision is not going back and fussing around, but going forward into the process of creation

Poetry has a way of teaching one what one needs to know ... if one is honest.

The most valuable thing we can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of room, not try to be or do anything whatever.

Innocence is not pure so much as pleased, Always expectant, bright-eyed, self-enclosed

instant intimacy was too often followed by disillusion.

I love giving flowers. It is so deliciously unlasting and romantic.