One doesn’t become a witch to run around being helpful either…. It’s to escape all that – to have a life of one’s own, not an existence doled out to you by others, charitable refuse of their thoughts, so many ounces of stale bread of life a day.

Total grief is like a minefield. No knowing when one will touch the tripwire.

We are also rather concerned about our moorhen who went mad while we were in Italy and began to build a nest in a tree. ... she walks about in the tree, looking as uneasy yet persevering as a district visitor in a brothel.

I seem to use this word 'kind' very frequently. When one is unhappy or anxious it is a quality one dwells on.

Anticipation of pleasure is a pleasure in itself.

When I die, I hope to think I have annoyed a great many people.

Truth has beauty, power, and necessity.