Everything is gestation and bringing forth. To let each impression and each germ of feeling come to completion wholly in itself, in the dark, in the inexpressible, the unconscious, beyond the reach of one's own intelligence, and await with deep humility and patience the birth-hour of a new clarity: that alone is living the artist's life.

Our task is to listen to the news that is always arriving out of silence.

I feel it now: there's a power in me to grasp and give shape to my world I know that nothing has ever been real without my beholding it. All becoming has need me.

If my devils are to leave me, I'm afraid my angels will take flight as well.

I have patience for centuries in me and will live as though my time were very big.

Your life will still find its own paths from there, and that they may be good, rich, and wide is what I wish for you, more than I can say.

Weren't you always distracted by expectation, as if every event announced a beloved? (Where can you find a place to keep her, with all the huge strange thoughts inside you going and coming and often staying all night.).