He believed that he must, that he could and would recover the good things, the happy things, the easy tranquil things of life. He had made mistakes, but he could overlook these. He had been a fool, but that could be forgiven. The time wasted--must be relinquished. What else could one do about it? Things were too complex, but they might be reduced to simplicity again. Recovery was possible.

The first undressing of two lovers is a most special event.

To tell the truth I never had it so good. But I lacked the strength of character to bear such joy.

Unexpected intrusions of beauty. This is what life is.

...I am much better now at ambiguities.

Art is order, made out of the chaos of life.

I have begun in old age to understand...that we seldom if ever realize how generous we are to ourselves, and just how stingy with others.