It is the place of renewal and of safety, where for a little while there will be no harm or attack and, while every sense is nourished, the soul rests.
Solitude is one thing and loneliness is another.
Wrinkles here and there seem unimportant compared to the Gestalt of the whole person I have become in this past year.
When we admit our vulnerability, we include others. If we deny it, we shut them out.
Don't forget that compared to a grownup person every baby is a genius.
And I refuse to feel guilty about not letter-writing either. There are times when one can, times when one can't. In the times when an enormous amount of living is going on, one can't.