The typhoon came out of the sea first as a deep hollow roar. ... I was surrounded by the madness, the unreason, of uncontrolled, undisciplined energy. None of this made any sense. It was worse than useless - it was nature destroying its own creation - its own self. To create by the long process of growth and then to destroy by a fit of wild emotion - was this not madness, was this not unreason?

Inside myself is a place where I live all alone and that is where I renew my springs that never dry up.

A good marriage is one which allows for change and growth in the individuals and in the way they express their love.

Every event has had its cause, and nothing, not the least wind that blows, is accident or causeless.

None who have always been free can understand the terrible fascinating power of the hope of freedom to those who are not free.

Yet there were times when he did love her with all the kindness she demanded, and how was she to know what were those times? Alone she raged against his cheerfulness and put herself at the mercy of her own love and longed to be free of it because it made her less than he and dependent on him. But how could she be free of chains she had put upon herself? Her soul was all tempest. The dreams she had once had of her life were dead. She was in prison in the house. And yet who was her jailer except herself?

Write a novel if you must, but think of money as an unlikely accident. Get your reward out of writing it, and try to be content with that.