They are commiting murder who merely live.

I 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.

One of the good elements of old age is that we no longer have to prove anything, to ourselves or to anyone else. We are what we are.

About loving, I have little to learn from the young.

I feel happy to be keeping a journal again. I've missed it, missed naming things as they appear, missed the half hour when I push all duties aside and savor the experience of being alive in this beautiful place.

In poetry compromise is fatal. In action of any cooperative sort it is inevitable. The thing is to find the balance.

When addressed, a Gentleman Cat does not move a muscle. He looks as if he hasn't heard.