I can't think logically about who I am or where I am going. I have been very ecstatic, horribly depressed, shocked, elated, enlightened, and enervated.

You have to be able to make a real creative life for Yourself, before you can expect anyone Else to provide one ready-made for you.

When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn't know.

…* to learn that money makes life smooth in some ways, and to feel how tight and threadbare life is if you have too little. * to despise money, which is a farce, mere paper, and to hate what you have to do for it, and yet to long to have it in order to be free from slaving for it. * to yearn toward art, music, ballet and good books, and get them only in tantalizing snatches.

Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little?

I started adding up all the things I couldn't do.

And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.