It is fatal to be a man or woman pure and simple: one must be a woman manly, or a man womanly.
No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.
And now more than anything I want beautiful prose. I relish it more and more exquisitely.
He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.
For the eye has this strange property: it rests only on beauty.
They came to her, naturally, since she was a woman, all day long with this and that; one wanting this, another that; the children were growing up; she often felt she was nothing but a sponge sopped full of human emotions.