How remorseless life is!

I am reading Henry James...and feel myself as one entombed in a block of smooth amber.

I will not be "famous," "great." I will go on adventuring, changing, opening my mind and my eyes, refusing to be stamped and stereotyped. The thing is to free one's self: to let it find its dimensions, not be impeded.

loveliness is infernally sad.

As long as she thinks of a man, nobody objects to a woman thinking.

I was lying in bed this morning and saying to myself, 'the remarkable thing about Ethel is her stupendous self-satisfaction' when in came your letter to confirm this profound psychological observation. How delighted I was!

There are no teachers, saints, prophets, good people, but the artists.