I do think all good and evil comes from words. I have to tune myself into a good temper with something musical, and I run to a book as a child to its mother.

I was in a queer mood, thinking myself very old: but now I am a woman again - as I always am when I write.

To enjoy freedom we have to control ourselves.

So I have to create the whole thing afresh for myself each time. Probably all writers now are in the same boat. It is the penalty we pay for breaking with tradition, and the solitude makes the writing more exciting though the being read less so. One ought to sink to the bottom of the sea, probably, and live alone with ones words.

My mind works in idleness. To do nothing is often my most profitable way.

Indeed there has never been any explanation of the ebb and flow in our veins--of happiness and unhappiness.

I spent an hour looking at pots and carpets in the museums the other day, until the desire to describe them became like the desire for the lusts of the flesh.