A clock is a little machine that shuts us out from the wonder of time.

For nothing is so hard to hear as that which is half known, and evaded. One never denies so hotly as in denying to one's self what one fears is true, and one never resents so bitterly as in resenting that which one cannot say one has the right to resent.

Defeat furnishes good material to the poets and the artists, but none of us care to have the glory of the conquered apply to us.

I go about in the world - free, busy, happy. Among people, I have no time to think of myself.

As I grow older, I think friendship between women is a thing to cherish.

But mayn't desertion be a brave thing? A fine thing? To desert a thing we've gone beyond - to have the courage to desert it and walk right off from the dead thing to the live thing - ?

They made small effort to cover their raw souls with the mantle of commonplace words.