They are commiting murder who merely live.

Deep down there was understanding, not of the facts of our lives so much as of our essential natures.

How unnatural the imposed view, imposed by a puritanical ethos, that passionate love belongs only to the young, that people are dead from the neck down by the time they are forty, and that any deep feeling, any passion after that age, is either ludicrous or revolting!

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

Old age is not an illness, it is a timeless ascent. As power diminishes, we grow toward the light.

When it comes to the important things one is always alone.

Mountains define you. You cannot define / Them.